The Things We Say
by Meli03
Summary: What harm could three little words do? Especially if you don't know you've said them?
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own Person of Interest or any characters you may recognize.**

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"**The Things We Say"**

"_Thank you, both of you," _

Those were the last words John spoke to her, whispered with an air of gratefulness and finality. While he gave her arm one last caress and turned his back on her to escape to the roof - and certain death - sorrow and anger warred for priority in her heart. For the moment Joss let grief take precedence as she watched him disappear up the final few steps, dragging a large chunk of her heart with him.

Damn that foolish man! After everything they had been through recently, didn't he realize she was willing to do everything within her power to free him, to attempt to repay the debt she owed him….that she had finally stopped running from her feelings and was ready to admit she was desperately in love with him?

Joss had barely felt Fusco grab her arm to propel her back down the stairwell. Only thoughts of her baby boy kept her from dashing back through that iron door and forcing the stubborn mule to accept her help. She did not want to admit how irritatingly right John was at the moment, but she truly did have too much to lose. Taylor had already endured the loss of his father, she wouldn't put him through the death of his remaining parent too.

Each shaky step down reinforced her heartbreaking decision to leave the man she loved behind for the sake of her son. Deep down though, she could not smother a tiny spark of hope that John Reese, the man with nine lives, would be able to make it out of this nightmare unscathed. John and Finch had to have some sort of last-minute miracle up their sleeve. The alternative was unthinkable.

"_Come on Carter" _Fusco urged her, still gripping her arm as if afraid she would run back to John if he let go for even a second. _"Come on Carter, let's get out of here…Carter -"_

"Carter! Earth to Carter! You ready to go?!"

Detective Raymond Terney's rough voice broke through her reverie, jerking her back to the present**:** eight agonizing weeks since the night she thought she had lost John, working an active homicide case with Terney while Fusco was out running errands for the Dynamic Duo.

"Uh yeah, I'm just about through Terney," Joss answered, tightening her grip on several small plastic evidence bags as she turned around to face her temporary partner. "Just focused on getting all the evidence we can to catch this guy," she finished lamely, waving clear baggies in front of her with an over bright smile plastered on her face.

Inwardly she was cursing herself for being caught mooning over John Reese and his pathetic ass. More than five hours had passed since she had staggered out of the Coronet Hotel, resolved to expel him from her heart and mind permanently. She refused to let his arrogant smirks, whispered innuendos, and seductive blue eyes intoxicate her any longer.

Rather reluctantly she conceded to herself that her endeavor would likely require thousands of hours and thousands of gallons of Haagen Dazs pineapple coconut ice cream to truly rid herself of the ex-CIA enforcer….or at least that would be a fine way to start.

The raised eyebrow and disbelieving sneer Detective Terney tossed her way was as loud as any verbal 'whatever' could have been. "Well wrap it up sweetheart. We've finished processing the rest of the apartment and I want to make it home before Letterman finishes his top 10."

"Right behind you," Joss murmured to his retreating back. Any other day she would have taken to task anyone who dared call her _sweetheart_, particularly while she was on duty. As a female detective she worked twice as hard as her male counterparts, giving 110% every day to prove her naysayers wrong.

Joss turned back to the blood stained dresser with a dejected sigh. She was just too drained - emotionally and physically - to take up that battle at the moment; and in all honesty she couldn't find it in her heart to get mad at the man. Raymond Terney was a first-rate detective and a dependable friend - not something she could say for the majority of the cops she worked with. He had taken her under his wing when she first joined the Homicide Task Force, showing her the ropes, swapping war stories, and defending her against members of the older order. Once after an exceptionally grueling investigation where their suspect had surprised her with a knife, the older detective had stayed with her in the emergency room while she waited to be patched up. He had quietly told her that she was a remarkable investigator who worked circles around the other men in their unit. Joss served as a reminder to him that there were decent officers on the force, that not everyone could be bought.

Tonight however, Terney was not acting like himself. His usual good-humor had disappeared, replaced with what Joss might be tempted to call edgy desperation if she didn't know better. Her colleague had been in a bear of a mood since they arrived at the scene, particularly after a brief but tense phone call he received when they pulled up to the modest brownstone. _"I'll take care of it,"_ had been his terse reply before slapping the phone closed. Terney had then proceeded to stomp towards the building, barking out orders that had nervous crime scene techs and rookie uniformed officers scurrying to do his bidding.

Standing alone by a curious knot of onlookers, Joss had allowed herself a moment to wonder at the dramatic change in her coworker. Water cooler gossip - which she proudly refrained from, yet grudgingly received second-hand from Fusco - insinuated Terney's oldest daughter was in trouble again, using drugs and running with a rough crowd. Such a shame considering how hard it had been on her family before she decided to get clean several years ago. Joss couldn't help but empathize, knowing first hand the challenges single parenthood brought, especially raising a teenager in New York City with a cop's schedule and salary. She had cut him some slack, chalking up his current disposition to tensions with his adolescent daughter and the late winter snow falling a few hours before the forecasted time - perfect weather for aggravating his decades old knee injury.

Joss cut her reflections short and deposited her collection of baggies into a large bin on the floor next to her, then hunched over to study the cracked surface of the worn bureau - most likely their murder weapon. The medical examiner speculated cause of death could be blunt force trauma, undoubtedly from her head striking the furniture's sharp corner.

A short black hair trapped in a section of splintered wood snagged her attention. Their victim was a single young female with unruly copper curls. Her family lived out-of-state, and she reportedly had no boyfriend, so it was very possible that the darker hair came from her murderer. Joss processed the strand and took a swab of blood from that area before examining the haphazardly opened drawers. Whoever had rummaged through them was in a hurry, and the extravagant pieces of jewelry and designer clothing left behind suggested robbery was not the motive.

She photographed the dresser in its current state before continuing her search. Pictures of the victim with friends and family littered the top, along with a few dusty yet pricey looking perfume bottles and a stunning photograph of a deserted white sand beach overlooking calm azure waters. The picture was taped to a large mason jar with the label "vacation fund" pasted below it. Apparently this was one trust fund baby that was not running to mommy and daddy to pay her way for everything - the discovery was refreshing, and intensified Joss' determination to put her murderer in handcuffs. She paused for a moment to consider the idyllic photo, the scene calling to her, grabbing her attention away from the job at hand.

"_A vacation…maybe that is what I need." _Joss mulled the idea over. Perhaps a getaway to an uninhabited tropical island would increase her chances of falling out of love with John Reese. "_Well" _she conceded, "_maybe an uninhabited tropical island fully stocked with Bikini Martinis and tanned, muscular cabana boys to keep me occupied." _

She _did_ have several months of vacation time on the books just sitting there collecting dust; and a change of scenery from dreary, frozen New York City would be refreshing. The more she day dreamed about it, the more the merit the idea gained. Joss found herself swearing to jump online and start her search for the perfect spot the minute she got home.

It would do her a world of good to go somewhere far _far_ away from the city and the sources of stress it held - her insurmountable caseload , Finch and his undisclosed, but frighteningly accurate source, Fusco and his perpetual scowl, her soon to be ex boyfriend Cal Beecher, John Reese and his new side kick Zoe Morgan…_"Wow, Joss," _she scowled at her reflection in the bureau mirror, _"just couldn't stop yourself from going there huh?"_ Wasn't witnessing the two lovers firsthand this afternoon enough?

_**Several hours earlier**_

Joss Carter wanted to hit someone. No, that wasn't true. She had a few very specific "someones" in mind; and, if she was in the mood to continue being honest, she wanted to do more than just hit these targets.

With her derailed polygraph test and rescinded job offer from the FBI just hours old, Joss was the epitome of pissed off. She was furious with everyone - herself, Cal Beecher, SAIC Moss, Agent Donnelly, Fusco - but mainly with her Man in the Suit and his quirky billionaire pal.

Did those two know about the IAB investigation into Beecher, but were "too busy" to clue her in? Had they decided that she didn't need to know? The very idea caused her blood pressure to spike into dangerous territory. She was a military veteran, a homicide detective, the single mom of a teenager for crying out loud! She was more than capable of handling this news and protecting herself accordingly.

The only other option, equally as maddening as the first, was that perhaps they did not know either because they had not cared enough to check up on the new man in her life. Joss would not allow herself to dwell on that notion for long though, it hurt too much to think about. John and Harold had to care on some level, she reasoned with herself.

They had to or Reese would not have mentioned it that morning at the City Planner's office. _"You're looking nice Carter," _he had said. _"Maybe this Cal Beecher will be good for you too, as long as he treats you right. If he messes with you he'll be hearing from me._ Joss had scolded John about respecting her boundaries all those weeks ago, but she was secretly elated at his protective posturing that day. In fact John had seemed so earnest in defending her that Joss found herself perilously close to telling him the truth - she was only dating Beecher to distract herself from her growing feelings for him.

Looking back now she began to doubt that John meant a word of what he said. More than likely he had been trying to charm her into getting the security camera footage he needed, and distract her from his creative use of Marshal Jennings' purloined badge.

Joss stormed out of the sector soon after Agent Moss left, and drove across town to the upscale hotel where John and Harold were wrapping up their latest number. She would deal with Cal later, but right now she intended to find the pair and get some answers. Joss also planned to finally snag a few minutes alone with John. Neither had spoken to the other since that dreadful night on the top floor, where he had tersely thanked her before turning away, resigned to one last self-sacrificing act.

Afterwards she was busy coordinating responsibilities with the other first responders to clean up the mess Snow and Stanton had left, when he and Finch limped out of the empty building. Joss had been relieved beyond measure when she saw them and wanted to wrap John in her arms, letting go only after she was certain he was alright. Instead they exchanged weary nods and she flashed him a wide, teary smile before going back to work, distracting the other officers on scene to allow the two men time to melt into the crowd of spectators.

Joss had every intention of calling him when she finally made it home; but by the time she did return to her apartment the next day she hesitated in reaching out. The chain of events his arrest touched off had taken a toll on her. She felt a profound need for isolation, to give her time to decompress and regain some sense of balance and control in her life and in her relationship with John. His silence led her to believe that he needed downtime too; but the longer this separation dragged on, the wider the awkward distance between them grew. There was more going on than a simple hiatus, and today was the day she found out the truth.

John's actions that night had torn at her heart, in part because of her feelings for him; but more so because he was the one in need of rescuing for a change, yet she was not permitted to help him. Joss was convinced that she could have freed him if given the chance; but John had shut her down immediately, not even allowing her to attempt it.

John Reese, Mr. Badass, hunted/haunted Man in the Suit had saved her life, saved her son's life, and kept his promise to watch her back. Joss knew she could never repay her debt to him; but the morning he brought Taylor back to her unharmed just as he had promised, she swore to herself she would always be there for him. That vow meant answering his calls all hours of the day and night, crafting believable cover stories at the drop of a hat, learning to see the gray areas in life, giving more of herself than was comfortable with at times, and taking risks with her career, even her life. His rejection of her offer to find a way out of that death sentence had cut her deeply and caused their burgeoning friendship to feel lopsided - most definitely not in her favor.

Joss knew for a fact that before his abduction she had been achingly close breaking through John's defenses and gaining his complete trust. All of that progress had been destroyed when Donnelly arrested them that night on the bridge. Her heart broke again remembering the split second of anguish in John's eyes before the CIA robot mask slid into place. He truly believed the FBI agent's heartless words, and she suspected that played a part in the separation between them. Joss needed to talk to him, get him to relent and open up to her again just a little. If she could manage that, then they had a decent chance at regaining their earlier equilibrium and perhaps moving on to something more.

That needed to happen soon, because God only knew how much more of her strained exile from their ragtag band of heroes she could take. She missed the thrill of being able to stop the bad guys before they ruined innocent lives. She missed being needed and appreciated for who she truly was and what she had to offer.

Above all Joss dearly missed her friend - the man who ambled down the aisles of the grocery store with her late at night after work, sneaking things into the cart and claiming they were for Taylor, the man who had sneered at her homemade chocolate lava cake and challenged her to a bake-off with Taylor, Finch, Fusco, and Bear as the unwitting judges, the man who debated military strategies and weapon preferences with her, engaged her in a water balloon war one blistering summer day; and spent many snowy evenings curled up on her couch eating popcorn and watching marathons of black and white classics like _'I Love Lucy' _and_ '__The Thin Man'__._

For Joss, the worst part of her banishment was how completely John had cut off all communication. When they got into a jam with a number he contacted Fusco, or Finch would reach out to her. John didn't call her to check on Taylor and confirm his attendance at the next game. He didn't telephone to tease her about uncooperative suspects, while slyly trying to make sure she was not hurt.

His silence chafed her most on days when everything seemed to go wrong, one person after another using her as their own personal punching bag. After work on those lonely nights, Joss would lay in her bed staring at the nondescript burner phone, remembering how John lingered on the line with her on rough days, his throaty whispers calming, caressing her frayed nerves until she drifted off into a sound sleep. Several times over the last couple of months she dialed his number, wanting only to hear his husky voice reassure her that they were alright. Each time she hesitated, finger hovering over the last digit before she deleted the string of numbers, powered down the phone and cried herself to sleep.

"_Today has been one of those days," _she thought as she slipped into a parking spot, _"I need you John."_ Joss stepped out and slammed her car door with an energized determination to bite the bullet, be the bigger person, and put an end to this ridiculous behavior. Today would be the day she renewed her friendship with John Reese.

All those plans were shot to hell when she entered the reception area of the Coronet Hotel.

Harold spotted her first and she waved, about to head over to speak with him when she spied John exiting the bar, heading to a bank of elevators…his arm firmly anchoring an alluring Zoe Morgan to his side. The pleasure she felt at seeing him for the first time in weeks instantly diminished as snatches of their whispered conversation drifted to her above the roar filling her ears: _"Another round of drinks", "A little fun to help you loosen up", "My penthouse suite is still available"._

For the first time in her life, Jocelyn Carter wanted to surrender to the flight instinct rather than stand and fight. Her brain began shooting rapid fire messages to her legs, demanding they turn her body around and use the sudden flood of adrenaline to sprint to the nearest exit. Those rebellious limbs ignored that directive and slowly turned her to track the couple's progress through the plush lobby instead.

Joss found she couldn't even close her eyes to block out their smiling faces. Rather she was trapped in this nightmarish tableau, partially hidden from their view behind a hideous flower arrangement. She was unable to move, incongruously transfixed with the sight before her, letting out a startled gasp as John lowered his head to passionately kiss his companion.

Her entire body felt as if it were on the verge of collapse, but all she could manage was to reach out one hand and weakly grasp the edge of an ornate side table. The sight of her suspicions being blatantly confirmed took all the wind out of her sails.

Joss had long suspected there was more to John's connection with Zoe than he let on - not that John ever talked about that relationship with her anyway. The investigator in her recognized that something had happened between the two of them after John saved her life during the Vertanen case, but Joss had been comfortable not knowing all the details. She had assumed Zoe continued to help out of gratitude, but perhaps there was another explanation. After all most numbers were never heard from again once they were dealt with. It was curious then how she randomly popped up during investigations to manipulate her connections and provide vital information needed to save or arrest the current person of interest…and who could forget that the blonde haired maven was John's first choice to play Mrs. John Campbell on their suburban stake out.

"_How could I have been so stupid?" _she asked herself, blinking back warm tears. Her instincts were rarely wrong, this just couldn't be right….could it? Before the arrest/interrogation/re-arrest/bomb vest debacle, those instincts were leading her to believe her gorgeous guardian angel was growing to care for her as more than just a friend. His flirtatious banter, tender touches, and overprotective concern had cast quite a spell over her, opening a space for him in her heart that had been sealed shut since her husband's death. Watching the pair canoodle while waiting for their ride to the top floor, she came to the conclusion that she had only been fooling herself.

In spite of the anger and heartache churning within her, Joss forced herself to give credit where it was due. He deserved all the acting awards Hollywood could dole out for his ability to slip past her defenses and persuade her into lowering her guard. John Reese was a wickedly skilled actor, flawlessly playing whatever role the situation called for - bodyguard for hire, nerdy boyfriend, innocent man in the wrong place at the wrong time, friend looking for something more...Joss only wished she could have figured that out before he managed to dupe her. The bastard had likely not set out to break her heart, but damn if he hadn't done a fine job of it!

All of the pieces started to fit together in that moment, and Joss realized why John had broken off all contact with her after that exhausting winter night - she had gotten to close for his comfort when she laid her heart bare and begged him to let her help. John must have discerned the extent of her feelings for him, and chose to run like a coward instead of facing her as a true gentleman would. However he defined their relationship - annoying little sister, professional acquaintance, law enforcement asset - it was glaringly obvious did not think of her in the same way . Whether he was still in love with Jessica, interested in Zoe Morgan, or on the prowl for a _beneficial _friendship, her feelings were not reciprocated.

Her insubordinate legs relented at last and allowed her to retreat a few steps; but not before Zoe's calculating gaze caught her watery one. The aloof fixer shot her a gloating smirk before drawing Reese into another ardent lip lock.

That act proved to be the last straw, and Joss knew she needed to leave before she broke down in the middle of the hotel's atrium . _"Not here,"_ she would not allow Zoe or John the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

Joss managed to limp out the main entrance, avoiding Harold's concerned expression, and make it back to her car before the tears held at bay began falling in earnest. Seconds later her private cell phone vibrated and she couldn't hold back a wild burst of hope that rippled through her. Perhaps John had noticed her departure and left his girlfriend to chase after her? That expectation was dashed by Finch's clipped, yet strangely compassionate voice when she answered.

"Detective?" he questioned in a worried tone she hadn't heard from him since the accident with Kara Stanton.

"Hey Harold," she was quite proud of herself for sounding so calm and detached while tears and clumps of mascara were sliding down her cheeks. "I'm sorry I couldn't stay. I just remembered that I need to pick up Taylor from practice." Joss was fairly certain the bespectacled genius could see through her flimsy excuse; but putting distance between herself and the Coronet was her primary focus at the moment. She didn't even pause to consider the conclusions Finch would jump to at seeing her reaction to John kissing another woman.

"Joss," he tried again, the awkward distress oddly touching. "Perhaps we could meet later at the…Shake Shack for dinner? My treat?" Joss almost laughed at the absurdity of the suggestion. Harold must be out of his mind with worry if he was willing to dine at the bustling burger joint rather than one of his usual haughty French restaurants. "Taylor is welcome to join us as well."

Heartache and anger notwithstanding, Jocelyn found herself smiling at his discomfited attempt to offer her a shoulder to cry on. Harold had made an effort to change their relationship over the past several months, and Joss found that she was growing fond of the man…..but right now she desperately needed to be alone.

"Thank you Finch," Joss sincerely hoped her unspoken gratitude came across in her refusal. Harold could just as easily be calling to gloat, or even 'fire' her for breaking his unspoken code of ethics. "It's been a long day though. Taylor has a science project to work on and then turn in early."

"Another time then," he quietly assured her. " If you need anything Detective -"

"I'll call, I promise." Though they both knew that was as likely to happen as her accepting his dinner invitation. "Good night Harold."

"Good night Joss."

With that she hung up, caught sight of her face in the rearview mirror and flinched at the woman staring back at her. Pathetic. _"How did it get this far?" _she wondered while angrily grabbing a handful of tissues from the glove box to wipe away the remnants of her makeup.

John had not, by any stretch of the imagination, declared his love or undying devotion to her, in fact he had spent the last few weeks ignoring her completely. And while they often met each other in diners all across town, they had never shared anything remotely resembling a date. So why the hell was she sitting in her car, heartbroken, and feeling betrayed.

Joss considered herself an intelligent woman, sensible, grounded, not someone who could be easily swept away by something as stupid as a schoolgirl crush on the resident bad boy. It made absolutely no sense why she, a by the book homicide investigator with no sympathy for law breakers, was falling apart over a highly trained government assassin who had a laundry list of felony charges trailing after him.

Perhaps she should teach him a lesson by making a few calls, letting his location slip - No! That line of thought ended before it really even began. No, she would not betray him again, no matter how wounded she was. Joss felt prickles of remorse sting her conscience for even entertaining such an idea. She stood behind what she said to Donnelly during that ill-fated drive to his safe house: John Reese was a good man. Her friend was not the heartless monster others typecast him as; and she would protect him however she could until the bitter end - period.

Joss leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes, hoping to regroup and clear her mind. Images of Zoe and John making love on cool satin sheets instantly assailed her instead. With a pained growl, she took several deep breaths and shook the mental pictures away. Enough was enough! This whole mess was taking a turn to the absurd, and it _could not _continue, _would _not continue! Pining over him was a dead-end in more ways than one.

"_Pining_?" she cringed, rubbing a hand across her forehead in the hopes of easing the sudden throbbing there before it intensified. What was happening to her? She was not the type of woman to sit around moping over an unavailable man. Joss was realistic, rational, logical. She rarely let her emotions dictate her decisions, even in her personal life.

How many times during her years in law enforcement had she sat with a shaken woman, urging her to get rid of the toxic man in her life while wiping away her tears? That shoe felt peculiar, uncomfortable even, now that it was on the other foot. Reese had never - would never - physically hurt her, but their relationship was not exactly healthy or safe.

Her marriage to Greg had been the very definition of safe - loving, trusting, comfortable, and built on a foundation of a decades old friendship. Joss hesitated in even comparing the two relationships; but this _thing_ with John, the dizzying whirlwind of feelings that invaded her dreams and had her peering into the shadows hoping for a glimpse of him, was more intense than anything she had experienced with her husband.

Joss had loved Gregory Carter dearly, and cherished the years they were given. He would always hold a special place in her heart, but it seemed that her one time foe had managed to sneak through her initial resistance and make a place for himself in her heart without her knowledge or permission. He was the only man who could take her from one emotional extreme to the other, often in a matter of seconds. Only her John could manage to irritate her to distraction and then disarm her with an apologetic smile. One sexy grin from him had her clenching her fists to keep from grabbing handfuls of his white dress shirt to pull him close and kiss him senseless.

Her love for John Reese felt right and natural, but she knew it made absolutely no sense. They were complete opposites in almost every outward measure - he was a wanted man, she was a dedicated cop, he broke the rules every chance he got, she lived her life following said rules, she was a mom and had a full life ahead of her with her family and friends, he was a walking dead man with a price on his head and had so few friends he could count them on one hand. But in her heart of hearts, she knew they were both the same where it truly mattered**:** both worked tirelessly to save innocent lives and make sure justice was served, they both carried war wounds and past mistakes with them, each tried to atone for those mistakes - albeit in vastly different manners, and both were extremely loyal, faithful to both their mission and their friends.

When all was said and done, John Reese was a defender of the weak and forgotten, courageous, generous to a fault, loving, and a man she was proud to call her friend. Their work was important, more important than any desire she had for a relationship with him. Joss knew she needed to give up on that fantasy. She could ….would get through this in time, or so she told herself, but there was little comfort in that reassurance at the moment.

Her brain approved of the decision, but her heart was not as resolved to give up just yet, regardless of how ill fated a liaison between them would likely be. The heart wants what the heart wants, wasn't that the old saying? In the end sadly, her heart didn't matter. The fall out from a failed relationship would likely tear the team apart and endanger the lives of countless people. Not to mention the object of her desires was actively pursuing another woman at this very moment.

That little fact worked to scuttle the fog from her mind and bolster her decision to let him go. John Reese was clearly not interested, and if he could forget about her so easily then she could as well. From now on they would be acquaintances, polite co-workers, but nothing more. She would continue to help the team with the numbers as they came in; but Joss would not overextend herself, get wrapped up in their lives or allow herself to change further. Joss had accepted that she was a different woman now than she was a year and a half ago when she started this chase that turned into a second job. The events of the last six months led her to wonder if the needle on her moral compass had tilted a little too far, still leading her in the same general direction, but a few degrees off her regular path. The million dollar question remained - was this a change for the better?

That would take some time to answer, but she was in no hurry to examine the matter further. For now she would focus on ridding herself of feelings for John Reese, who, like any bad habit, could be flushed from her system. It would just take a lot of time, distance, and hard work on her part.

Suddenly the thought of the long, quiet night ahead of her at home terrified her. Joss had just finished a grueling week of eighteen hour shifts filled with wailing victims, perps who didn't understand the concept of 'quit while you're ahead', wild goose chases around town gathering evidence, witness interviews, court appearances, and mountains of paperwork …not to mention foiling an assassination attempt on a hotel maid in her own precinct, being turned down for a job with the FBI, and finding out her now ex-boyfriend was under investigation by internal affairs. A peaceful evening at home with her son should not reduce her to tears, but here she was in a near panic.

She needed to keep busy, just something to divert her attention for now while she subconsciously processed this bombardment of emotions. With her mind made up, Joss pulled out her phone again and finished cleaning her face while she waited for her mom to answer.

"You okay baby girl?" Sofia Daniels asked after she agreed to pick up Taylor from the library near his school.

Jocelyn winced at her mother's soft inquisitive tone, the one she used when she knew something was wrong with her daughter. Great. The last thing she needed was for her mother to start prying into her life - or lack there of. Joss may have followed in her father's footsteps career wise, but she had her mother to thank for her interrogation skills. That woman never met a pair of lips she couldn't loosen. Joss couldn't help but briefly imagine the older woman in the box with Harold or John. Her mom would have her work cut out for her, but those two wouldn't stand a chance against the master!

"I'm fine mom, I promise…just swamped at work right now," the silence the other end of the line was not comforting "It's job security right?" the attempt at humor was lost on her mother.

Joss wanted nothing more at that moment than to be able to run to her mama and bury herself in her warm embrace like she had when she was a little girl; but this was something she had to deal with on her own for more than one reason. Being an independent adult with a secret life had its disadvantages some days.

She spent a few more minutes ironing out the details before she hung up and slipped into the early evening traffic to head back to the office.

The return trip took a little longer than expected due to heavier than normal congestion; but she finally made her way back to her desk and fired up her computer, intent on ignoring the sniggle of guilt she felt at hoping for a case to drop into her lap. Getting the work she needed to keep busy meant someone else was going to have a crappy day.

Two and a half hours later Joss pushed back from her desk and massaged the tender muscles in her neck. The tension headache from earlier was rearing its ugly head and she was starting to feel light-headed - likely from skipping her last four meals. Despite her exhaustion, Joss could not bring herself to leave. She just wasn't ready to face an empty apartment and her raw feelings yet. Besides, her return to work had been very productive so far. She had managed to write a few minor arrest warrants, email three reports to the DA's office, arrange a handful of witness interviews for later in the week, check in with Taylor, catch up on her paperwork as well as Fusco's, and even re-organize her desk and filing cabinet - all while sneaking glances at the drawer where she had locked up the burner phone that was practically begging for her attention. Her rational side knew better than to expect a call from John; but the wounded woman in Joss still held on to an inkling of hope.

'_You're being ridiculous,'_ she scolded herself. She had made up her mind to move on and she would. Her efforts would be in vain if she didn't stand by her commitment.

Joss set out in search of a decent cup of coffee to take the edge off, deciding to tackle the pile of junk on her partner's desk - Mount Fusco as she had christened it - when she returned. Before she reached the break room door Joss saw Terney and his partner hustle out of the captain's office, making a beeline for their go bags.

"Carter, what are you doing back so soon?" Terney paused in holstering his back up weapon to eye her curiously. "Miss me already?"

"Yeah like your ex-wife misses you Terney."

"You sure know how to kick a man while he's down don't ya?"

The two traded lighthearted barbs for a few more minutes before she managed to get herself invited to their crime scene. The suspicious death of a coed from Bank Street College of Education would be just the thing to keep her busy for several more hours.

Joss couldn't bite back the grim smile that tilted her lips as she grabbed her own gear and resolutely left the precinct with her last connection to John Reese locked securely in her bottom drawer.

_**Present time**_

Taking a cleansing breath to regain her focus, Joss stepped back slightly to continue examining the dresser. Immediately she zeroed in on a bloody fingerprint on the only closed drawer. '_Odd'_ she mused, snapping a picture before bending to process the print. The blood had not completely dried so she would need to use some small particle reagent when lifting the mark.

Joss rooted around in her bag and found the small bottle wedged behind her crime scene "how to" guide she received back in the academy. She grabbed both intending to collect this evidence herself and not drag a tech back in to do it for her. For the most part Joss usually left this aspect of the job to the CSU team while she questioned witnesses and followed up on leads; however she had gone through the mandatory training and knew it would be faster to do it herself…well it would have been faster if she had remembered to refill her bottle with the fingerprinting agent when she used the last of it a few months ago. A refill honestly had been on her to-do list, but like so many other things, it got pushed to the back burner in the aftermath of John's arrest.

"Terney's going to love this," she muttered as pushed to her feet to find her interim partner. The older detective barked out orders earlier for the CSU guys to head back to the lab while the detectives and uniformed officers finished securing the scene. She needed to catch them before they left, because, while she had nothing but respect for Detective Raymond Terney, she doubted he carried bottles of SPR spray with him.

Joss had only taken a few steps when she heard a clatter in the adjoining room and froze. _'What is going on with that man?' _she wondered. It was not like her friend to stomp around and sulk, no matter what was happening in his personal life.

Regardless of his foul mood and impatience to leave, there was still work to be done. Joss would not be rushed or allow him to bully her into leaving the rest of the scene for the next day. If need be, she would handle transporting all the evidence to the property room and dig into the investigation herself back at the precinct so he could make it home at a decent time.

"Hey Terney," she called out. "I'm still gonna be another few minutes, so why don't you come in here and take a look at this." No sarcastic quip or rumbling growl answered her, only another solid thump.

Joss' instincts flared to life and her right hand flew to her service weapon, silently unclipping it from the holster. She backed away from the door and into the shadows near the bed as the electricity flickered and finally blinked out. Joss stood frozen in her hiding place, fighting the urge to panic while her eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness. A quick glance out the window on the opposite wall confirmed what she suspected: the power was only out in this unit and had likely been cut on purpose, not a blackout due to the winter storm. _'Terney where did you go?'_ she thought. Joss contemplated calling him for back up, but didn't want to risk the light from her phone giving away her position to the intruder.

Seconds later she sensed the presence of someone else in the bedroom with her and Joss knew beyond a doubt it was not a fellow brother in blue. At this point her vision had acclimated enough that muted light from the moon and dim street lamps allowed her to see a hulking form advancing steadily towards her. Each step he took in her direction revealed a clearer picture of what she was up against. Her brain cataloged the critical factors while trying to compute a plan of action: male, height at least 6'3", 200-230 pounds, outfitted from head to toe in top of the line body armor and tactical gear, complete with high-end night vision goggles and a lethal silencer equipped Glock.

This was no bumbling criminal returning to the scene to clean up after himself. This felt like a well-funded assassination attempt. But on who….by who? Her mind began spinning with a multitude of theories, most of which left her stomach sinking in the direction of her knees. Who would be foolish enough to walk into an active crime scene with dozens of officers covering the perimeter….speaking of those officers where were they now? She would have heard the confrontation if he had run into a patrolman, and there were no unguarded areas where he could have slipped by unseen.

A shiver tore through her with the realization that her fellow officers had abandoned her, just as they had the night she took several marked units with her to collect Don Basile. Only this time the Man in the Suit would not appear in the nick of time to rescue her. She was utterly isolated, with that hated admonition ringing in her head: _"You're all alone." _

How many times had she heard that throughout her life - from the drunken frat pledge who tried to rape her back in college, the smug soldiers who allowed Yusef to be murdered despite her promise to protect him, from a female detective she had once considered a close friend, and even from Don Moretti when she had tried to protect him from his own son. Joss had fought back each time, determined not to show how frightened she was at the prospect of being alone, with no back up, no partner to help shoulder the load.

Her heart was quick to leap to John's defense, calling up his raspy promise spoken to her in the shadows of that alley not long ago: _"you're not alone."_ Just as swiftly, her mind shut down the image and sent more adrenaline coursing through her body to prepare for the fight stalking towards her. There was no time left to hem and haw about promises kept or broken by the vigilante. The hunter had found his prey.

Joss continued to skirt the wall, planning to stick to the edge of the room and make a mad dash for the door when she was in the clear. Once outside she could call Fusco for back up, then lay in wait to hopefully turn the tables on her assailant.

A few feet more and she ran into the victim's night stand, knocking over a lamp in the process. The hit man advanced on her with a mirthless laugh, and she brought up her Sig Sauer, aiming for his goggles without bothering to offer a warning shout of "NYPD, drop your weapon!" The darkened room made aiming difficult, and her shot only grazed the very tip of the frames. The close call did not seem to make any impact on her attacker as he fired his own weapon. Joss dodged to her left at the last second, and felt the bullet tear into her shoulder as she tumbled on to the unmade bed.

Somehow she managed to keep a tight grip around her gun, however the steady stream of warm blood coursing down her arm and into her palm was challenging that - not to mention the firearm now felt as though it weighed a thousand pounds. Her injured arm was useless in lifting her weapon to aim again, but before she could change shooting hands the man pounced on her, delivering well placed punches to her jaw and torso.

The blows momentarily stunned Joss, allowing her attacker to press her further into the mattress and commandeer her firearm. While the room was still whirling around her the invader grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking back hard enough to earn him a pained hiss from between her clenched teeth. He jammed the cold steel of the silencer into the tender flesh under her chin and leaned in close.

"You should have heeded our first warning Detective." He snarled in an accent she couldn't quite place, perhaps Eastern European? The attacker leaned in even closer, a rancid puff of his breath causing her stomach to roil in disgust and anguish. "But no, you decided to keep sticking your nose in where it didn't belong." He emphasized his last words with a painful twist of the gun, wedging the barrel against her windpipe. Hot and cold prickles of agony were needling their way across her flesh, threatening to overwhelm her. Already she sensed darkness creeping into the edges of her vision.

_Fight! _her spirit screamed to her weakening body. _There has to be a way out of this! _Leaving Taylor an orphan, without first fighting tooth and nail to survive was incomprehensible. Joss knew her mom would take care of him, and she had no doubt Fusco, Finch, even John, would step in as guardians also. Her baby boy would be loved, protected, and want for nothing; but it wouldn't be the same as being there herself. Joss was all he had left and she wanted to live, to fuss over him as he grew into a responsible young man, not spy on him through holes in Heaven's floor boards.

The feel of a meaty hand pulling apart the buttons on her blouse brought her out of her stupor, barely in time to catch his next words over the increasing clamor in her head. "HR wants me to make sure you receive their message loud and clear this time….fortunately for us they left it up to me as to how to deliver it." The hand tangled in her hair tightened painfully while he used his teeth to pull the glove off of his free hand.

'_Oh hell no!'_ Jocelyn Carter, combat soldier roared to life, vowing to fight to the death before allowing this asshole to rape and murder her. It truly would have to happen over her dead body!

HR's executioner sneered down at her and moved to unbutton her pants when she sprang into action - head butting the pervert and sharply raising her knee to strike him dead center in his most sensitive area. Her efforts winded her but netted her precious seconds to slide out from under him. She had managed to stumble several steps towards the door before he grasped her ankle and jerked her back onto the floor. The impact with the hardwood surface jarred ribs she suspected were bruised, if not already broken, and robbed her of any remaining breath.

Joss wasn't done fighting though and used her waning energy to flip herself onto her back while bringing the opposite foot up to deliver a punishing kick to his head. The jolt dazed him, but was not enough to loosen his hold on her ankle. She drew back to strike again when he captured that foot as well.

"You stupid bitch!" He seethed with blood streaming from his now broken nose. He shrugged aside the goggles she managed to dislodge in the struggle as he increased the pressure on her ankles, dragging her underneath him. "I tried to make this pleasant for you."

"Fuck you!" Joss spat in his face as he moved to sit on her legs and block her left hand from clawing at his face mask. The man was considerably larger than her, but she continued to buck and kick - anything to throw him off of her - ignoring her body's acute protests.

"Too late for that _sweetheart_," he grunted as his large left hand wrapped around her throat, cutting off her vital air supply. Joss' alarm increased tenfold as she gasped for oxygen no longer available to her. The darkness returned to the periphery of her vision, quickly swallowing everything in sight except for his contorted face - startling grey eyes and the jagged white line of a scar across his right cheek bone now clearly visible.

'_God help me please!'_ Joss prayed, confident He was listening. It had been quite a while since her work schedule had allowed her to attend Sunday services with any regularity, but in her heart she knew her faith and love for Him were ultimately what mattered.

She managed a tight smile when she felt the warrior in her rally for one last attempt at freedom. She twisted her head as far as possible and sank her teeth into the nearest piece of flesh she could find, supremely satisfied when she realized she had drawn blood.

The unknown assailant screamed in pain and fell back releasing her throat, allowing her to greedily suck in gulps of air. The sharp stitch in her side knifed through her with each gasp, blossoming into constricting spasms that discouraged further attempts to breath. Joss realized she needed to move, but her mind could not talk her aching body into cooperating.

Weakly she flailed her legs in an effort to crawl away; but had not moved an inch before her enemy lashed out and struck her temple with the butt of his Glock. Excruciating pain immobilized her as fireworks ballooned across her line of sight. Her heavy lids closed of their own accord, and she felt herself slipping away towards a dazzling radiance just beyond her reach that beckoned her, offering an end to her current anguish.

Joss recognized her end was near and accepted the fact that there was nothing more she could do. At any second, HR's assassin would dispatch a bullet into her head finishing the job they started more than a year ago. She hovered on the edge of consciousness, not afraid of her impending death, but waiting confidently instead until it was her time to move on. The blinding flash of light that scarcely penetrated the obscure haze surrounding her was not from the muzzle of the gun as she expected. In the stillness of the room his labored breathing seemed overly loud, accompanied by a faint clicking noise she couldn't quite place.

Vaguely she discerned the sound of footsteps walking away from her, towards the kitchen area of the apartment, where moments later a door could be heard slamming shut. Joss was bewildered, but felt a flash of relief as she realized the man had left. Perhaps she could make it out of this alive after all! She just needed a few minutes to rest, then she would locate her cell phone and call for help.

Joss' relief was short-lived as the faint odor of smoke began to tickle her nostrils. The bastard must have thought she was dead and had set the apartment on fire to cover his tracks and make sure the job was completed. _'Didn't have the guts to pull the trigger after all'_ she jeered, while thankful for the gunman's cowardice or - most likely - laziness.

Despite the urgency of the situation, Joss could not summon the energy to pick her body up and escape. She simply could not move, and felt no pressure to do so either. She was perfectly comfortable drifting lazily away from her battered body, closer to the peace she sensed was waiting for her on the other side.

Seconds later the faint crackle and hiss from the flames in the kitchen roared to life as they latched on to the accelerant and licked their way through the bedroom door. Acrid clouds of smoke drifted into the room and overpowered the remaining clean air, searing her throat and lungs. Still no effort was made to move as snapshots of her life began to filter through her consciousness in slide show fashion**:** Her fifth birthday when she finally got the puppy she had begged her parents for, her senior prom where she shared the first of many dances with her high school sweetheart - Taylor's father, various outposts she served at during her tours of duty in Iraq and Afghanistan, the day Taylor was born, and the night she received word her husband had died in combat.

The rough years in between flew by as if on fast forward, before settling again on more recent times: crisp fall nights spent bunched up on a crowded bleacher next to John proudly cheering for Taylor, an awkward, but comforting hug they shared at her husband's graveside on the anniversary of his death, the healing pot of homemade chicken soup he brought to her when she caught the flu, the gentle pressure of his hand around hers after she thanked him for rescuing her son from Elias. More images of the man who unknowingly held her heart inundated her as she pictured a life with him that would sadly never be.

The blaze steadily slithered closer and falling debris began pelting the floor around her as one last memory played out: her first face to face meeting with the elusive vigilante, she lay prostrate and injured in that alleyway, again waiting for certain death only to be saved by him.

A wry grimace twisted her lips when one final reflection flickered through her fading awareness. Thanks to a weird twist of fate, John Reese had managed to simultaneously break the promise he made to her in that night and substantiate his bitter words to Jessica from all those years ago…. In the end you are all alone and no one is coming to save you.

His cynical claim didn't bother her now as she surrendered without hesitation to the all-encompassing light, swallowed up in a warm embrace of love by her God who was waiting for her on the other side.

Joss did not spare the fiery scene behind her a second glance. Had she paused to look back she would have noticed her physical body being hastily scooped up in a pair of muscular arms and carried through the flames to safety.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for taking the time to read my story, please let me know what you think! This is my first attempt at fan fiction and I'm still working on getting the characters just right. I apologize for any mistakes or continuity issues, I haven't gotten the chance to go back and watch "Booked Solid" so I was working from memory in regards to the timeline of events. I know this was a long - but hopefully not boring - chapter. I don't think my future ones will be quite so long, but we'll see :-). I have a pretty good outline for the next few chapters, but suggestions are always welcome!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own Person of Interest or any characters you may recognize**

* * *

Mixing his business with a little pleasure seemed like a good idea a few minutes ago in the Coronet's bar; but as John Reese headed to the elevator with one arm draped casually around Zoe's trim waist, he began to have second thoughts.

"Ready for another round of drinks?" her low voice tickled his ear generating sensations of both arousal and irritation in him. John managed to keep his trademark smirk in place even as Zoe smoothed her perfectly manicured hand across his suit jacket to rest dangerously low on the small of his back.

When he didn't respond she pressed the issue further as they made their way across the lobby, "You need a little fun to help loosen you up John."

"_A 'little fun'. Sure that's all it will take." _He couldn't keep the sarcasm and bitterness from lacing through his thoughts at her throaty diagnosis. "_Why didn't I think of that?"_

John knew he was being unfair, that his moodiness wasn't Zoe's fault. She was just playing the game he started in Far Rockaway and deserved better than bearing the brunt of his temper. John had been restless, edgy, for weeks now and nothing he had tried so far - work, alcohol, and more work - had succeeded in easing his uncomfortable state.

He sincerely doubted that sex with Zoe, as great as it had been the night before their 'divorce', would be the catalyst he needed to bring him back to his old self. John wasn't even sure he wanted to try at this point.

It wasn't that he was a prude, not by any definition of the word. In fact women from every corner of the globe, in almost every language known to man, had used words like shameless and cocksure to describe him - though John preferred labels like sanguine and dauntless. So no, it was definitely not some hidden set of Victorian principles that had him rethinking his plans for the evening.

After Harold had left the lounge to go over the day-to-day details with Mira, John continued to sit on his stool and sip at the his beer. In that moment he had been content to make small talk with Zoe and relax for a few minutes. There were stops he needed to make on his way home - Cal Beecher's apartment to deliver a _message_, then the sidewalk outside Carter's apartment for a nightly perimeter check - but those could keep until later when the darkness would afford him more shadows to skulk in.

John had only been half serious when he flirtatiously suggested moving their conversation upstairs to his penthouse suite. The key card was just a convenient prop in his hand, the raised eyebrow and sly grin a practiced move to needle her a bit.

When she leaned over to place her hand on his thigh, silently indicating her agreement, he was somewhat startled. John's weary brain could not come up with a plausible excuse fast enough to back out without hurting her feelings.

He was attracted to her, there was no denying that. Zoe was gorgeous, very enthusiastic, and best of all, not looking for a commitment he could not make. Any man would be flattered by the attention, but how could she not realize that he was exhausted tonight and only teasing her? Joss would have known.

"'_Where the hell did that come from?"_

The unexpected image of Jocelyn Carter and her saucy smile, amplified the tightness in the muscles at the base of his neck. Even after months of this self-imposed separation he found himself missing her; but that was not a safe topic to linger on these days.

It was true all the same, Reese conceded. Joss would have recognized the toll this case had taken on him, that he needed the banter to help him unwind…and she would not have hesitated in the least to put him in his place with her own playful retort.

Joss would have been proud of him tonight, John thought with a rueful smile. He could easily have killed that government assassin in the hotel kitchen, and likely should have because a man like that - like himself - would not stop until his mission was accomplished or he was dead. But he had given Joss his word, and right now his word, that was all he had left to offer her. John stilled his hand at the last possible second and offered his opponent the chance to walk away, to live to fight another day.

Even now John couldn't understand how she had managed to wrest such an agreement from him last year. It was not in his nature to consider anyone else's opinions when it came to how he performed his job. He didn't have it in him to show mercy, especially to someone determined to kill him. That night in his apartment was different though. She could have asked for anything and he would have agreed, whether her request was feasible or not.

Joss had just returned from their short trip to Texas, Finch was recovering and the team had managed to foil a child smuggling ring. All things considered John had been in a in a charitable mood - but not so charitable that he was going to let their suspect to get away with taking a cheap shot at Joss.

Reese had been watching from the shadows as she arrested their latest number, waiting to make sure she didn't need any back up while Lionel was preoccupied with getting the victim to safety. He had shot out of his hiding place the instant he saw the man's arm pull back; but he was not able to get there before a drunken fist caught her cheek. John automatically drew his weapon to take care of the situation, barely able think past the rage that inundated him.

His entire being urged him to take out the lowlife, but Joss' plea cut through the miasma of fear and fury. He could still hear her voice behind him, stunned yet commanding, calling his name to grab his attention, begging him not to take the bastard's life. How could Joss ask that of him? Did she honestly think he would tolerate anyone hurting a woman on his watch, especially her? John had watched the man run away, letting him think he was in the clear, while he debated his next move.

In the end her opinion of him had mattered more, so he winged the man and left Fusco to handle the mess while he took Joss back to his apartment. Naturally she had protested the entire drive home, promising him she was fine; but John had not been willing to take the chance. The fact that Joss had let him examine her injury with minimal sass should have been his first clue that she was up to something.

He could vividly recall her soft 'thank you' as he lifted her onto the island in his kitchen. Her knees had pressed lightly against his thighs as he settled into her personal space with his bag of first aid supplies. John knew the reason for her thanks without having to ask, but he didn't bother to tell her it wasn't necessary. Instead he held her stare for one charged moment, wordlessly acknowledging her gratitude.

It was crazy really, a side effect of waning adrenaline and the closeness their current position provided; but he had felt as though Joss was able to see past all the crap he used as camouflage to the real John Reese underneath. Clearly not a good place to be for a man in hiding, a man who was deathly afraid of what would happen if those closest to him saw the monster he was underneath.

Shifting his gaze before it she saw too much, John had brought his left hand up to cradle a melting bag of ice against her bruised cheek, wincing in sympathy when Joss sucked in a quick breath at the contact. His right hand fluttered awkwardly for a second as if it couldn't decide where to land - her thigh, the exposed skin at her waist where her shirt had ridden up, the silky hair curling around her shoulder - before coming to rest on the counter beside her.

Neither said anything for a while, each absorbed in their own thoughts of the evening's events. Joss' delicate breath grazed his palm with each exhale, and John found his gaze returning to hers, intrigued by the light brown undertones in her coffee-colored eyes

She had wrapped her small hand around his forearm and quietly asked him to behave better, use deadly force as a last resort. John could only nod his agreement, feeling a peculiar tug in his heart when she -

"_Yeah, definitely not a safe topic these days_." He drew a deep breath to extract himself from those precarious thoughts. Remembering his weakness that night and the friendship he had all but thrown away last November only served to increase his agitation. John was tired of thinking about Carter. He didn't want to face the bitter memories of the last time he saw her, memories that came all to easily when he didn't keep himself occupied. Perhaps Zoe had the right idea after all; and hadn't he earned the right to cut loose?

"_One night, that's all," _he reasoned as they reached the elevators… "My penthouse suite is still available," John finally answered, patting the pocket holding his key card for emphasis.

A victorious gleam flared to life in Zoe's eyes as she grinned at him and pressed the button to call the elevator. "Glad you changed your mind John."

For a the space of several heartbeats John's conscience nagged him about the wisdom of accepting Zoe's offer, but the matter wasn't up for debate any longer. John wouldn't be dissuaded now, so he took matters into his own hands, effectively silencing that small voice when he pulled Zoe fully into his arms to and slid his mouth across hers in a seeking kiss.

Zoe responded eagerly, her warm lips moving aggressively against his before parting in a tempting invitation to take all that she willingly had to offer. Warm flickers of arousal licked through his veins, while their surroundings faded into the background as he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss**. **

A small moan escaped from Zoe as she slipped her hand under his jacket to tug at his white dress shirt. John sensed that she needed the skin to skin contact and found himself responding to her urgency in kind, one hand kneading the muscles at the base of her spine before hugging the curve of her backside.

"_Take it easy." _The caution tattooed through his brain, making him aware of the fact that they were still standing in the lobby of Mira's hotel. John had a great deal of respect for the hotel maid turned manager and did not want to do anything that would ruin her chances of success.

John broke the kiss and pulled back to wink at Zoe, but stopped short at the odd expression stealing across her lovely features. Something just over his shoulder had snagged her attention, but before he could turn to assess the situation she yanked him down into another sultry kiss.

Blistering prickles of apprehension skittered up his spine to converge at the base of his neck, sounding an alarm he had learned to pay attention to years ago. John reached up to untangle himself from Zoe's surprisingly strong grip as the elevator's bell dinged to announce its arrival on the ground floor. Reese ushered Zoe into the waiting cage then turned to scan the lobby for the threat that set off his senses.

Nothing seemed out-of-place, in fact very few people were in the lobby during what should have been a peak time. An older gentleman waiting for his daughter to pull the car around was still snoring in a high back chair by the bank of windows; two businessmen in town for a dental convention stood near the bar's entrance indulging in shop talk; and Brandon, the new bell boy - a non smoker per Mira - flirted with a blushing teenage guest while her father watched from them like a hawk from the checkout desk.

Craning his neck to see around the gaudy flower arrangements, Reese spied a woman slowly making her way out the front door, her long wavy hair spilling down her back like a dark curtain. The rigid set of her shoulders, the clenched fists by her sides, and the gentle sway of her hips as she made her way outside captured his notice. This woman had a familiar air about her that reminded him of …no, that was ridiculous. It is not her. He would know. John had felt a distinct connection with Joss from the first moment they met. He was very aware of her presence; he was certain he would know if Joss was at the hotel, much less only a few feet away from him. Besides, tonight was mystery meal night at the Carter household, and mother and son were likely at home drawing names out of a hat to let fate decide their dinner plans for the evening. .

John watched the woman's curvy form until another pedestrian crossed through his line of sight and she rounded the corner, head down, a wayward breeze blowing her inky curls around her face, obscuring it from view.

The earlier tingles of alarm coiled tighter under his skin, raking over the muscles under his collar in a frenzied bid to get his attention. He should know better than to ignore his body, those nerves had served him well in many dangerous situations over the years. Six months ago he would have charmed Zoe into offering him a rain check and then left to chase after that woman; but that would have been before his arrest, his short stay at Riker's and the disastrous results that followed.

He had not felt those tell-tale prickles when he was down in the basement helping Abby and her boyfriend escape; or when Carter lied to a roomful of armed agents and claimed she couldn't identify her Man in the Suit. That sixth sense sure as hell didn't sound off any warning bells that night on the bridge when Donnelly managed to sneak up on them and he was forced to watch the smug FBI agent handcuff his friend like a common criminal

That intuition had failed him when he needed it most, and had almost cost Carter everything - including her life. So no, that feeling now was just another in a long list of malfunctions. Certainly not a valid reason to leave a beautiful woman and the promise of a pleasurable night to chase after a stranger, a shadow, because of a few tingling nerve endings.

The sound of a clearing throat interrupted his moody introspection. John turned to meet Zoe's raised brows, her slender finger holding down the button to keep the doors open. He offered no explanation for his behavior, after all women seemed to preferred a little mystery to their man…or so his older brother had told him the night before his first date. John stepped into the elevator, staring straight ahead for the short trip. The doors slid shut on the sleepy lobby, but not before he caught sight of Harold's worried look, almost as if his employer was trying to telepathically urge him to spring into action.

John was seconds away from slipping a hand through the panels to force them back open when Zoe stepped in front of him, clearly aroused and eager to continue what they had started a minute ago. She shot him a look of pure lust as she boldly lowered her hand to stroke him through the front of his dress pants. John held her gaze and let his desire take center stage, pushing aside his fear that something was wrong, that something bad was about to happen.

"Penny for your thoughts," Zoe purred.

"It will cost you more than that Ms. Morgan," John murmured capturing her wandering hand to draw her near. He shut out all thoughts of the mess he had made over past eight weeks as he backed Zoe into the elevator's wall and murmured against her lips. "Much more than that."

There would be plenty of time for recriminations later.

* * *

_"How stupid could one man be?"_

Harold Finch brooded over that question as he watched the elevator doors slide closed on his oblivious friend. He wasn't one to get personally involved in his employee's lives, but John Reese was dangerously close to making Harold break that rule. He knew it wasn't his business, that he should walk away and let nature, fate, or what have you take it's course…but he couldn't bring himself to do that.

He wasn't interested in playing matchmaker, he just wanted his friends to be happy; and anyone with eyes could see that Mr. Reese and Detective Carter made each other happy - if only _they_ could recognize that.

Harold cared about John, even though he had set out to keep his distance initially. The man was the closest thing he had to a friend, and he was worried about him. The weeks since John's run in with his ex partner had been taxing for him to say the least; but Harold had assumed that in time their lives would fall back into some semblance of their old routine. Now he was realizing what an errant miscalculation that had been.

After that terrifying night on top of the Mercer building John had walled himself off from the life he had built, peeking out occasionally to moodily interact with himself or Detective Fusco…but never Joss.

_Joss_. It still rolled awkwardly off his tongue, but Harold was growing more comfortable being on a first name basis with the female detective. The first time he said it had been an accident. It slipped out when he was frantically coaxing her to leave the scene after the collision with Stanton.

The friendship they had managed to forge over the last several months had taken him by surprise. He had not trusted Detective Carter when their paths first crossed and he had completely written her off when she led the CIA right to John. Harold thought the man had been out of his mind when he brought that woman in to their group; and refused to offer her anything more than good manners dictated.

That perfunctory manner led to a begrudging respect that gave way fully to concern and eventually friendship once he took the time to get to know the real Jocelyn Carter. She was a remarkable woman who stayed true to her values and beliefs even if the whole world was against her. Her determination, honesty, and compassion made her a valuable asset, but somewhere along the way his definition of her changed and the two had warily grown as close as either would allow.

Her heartbreak in the lobby earlier had him concerned, she wouldn't even look at him when she trudged out of the hotel. Harold wanted to check in on her, make sure she was ok, even though Joss would likely resent his asking. The detective was a strong woman who took pride in being self-sufficient; but he couldn't stand there and do nothing. She needed a friend, someone she could talk to that knew about the secret life she led. Before he had completely thought his plan through, Finch pulled out his cell phone and dialed a familiar number.

That she answered at all, much less on the first ring surprised him. "Detective?" He wasn't sure what else to say, the call was an impulsive decision, something he generally tried to avoid doing.

"Hey Harold," she sounded exhausted and he could easily detect her tears even as she tried to hide them. "I'm sorry I couldn't stay. I just remembered that I need to pick up Taylor from practice." Finch knew that was a lie. The young man was currently in the computer lab at the library three blocks from his school with two friends who were distracting him from his studying.

An idea came to mind, one he was certain she would decline; but he had to try. "Joss," he paused for a moment, trying to find the right words. "Perhaps we could meet later at the…" his favorite spot would definitely be out of the question, but maybe, "…Shake Shack for dinner? My treat?" Harold had craved a greasy burger and fries all day. This would give him the perfect opportunity to discreetly indulge in one of his guilty pleasures.

They must have a bad connection, because he could swear he heard a snicker escape the other end of the phone. Or a sign that he was getting through to her after all. "Taylor is welcome to join us as well," he added. Finch realized he didn't have enough cash on hand to cover Taylor Carter's insatiable appetite; but a quick stop at the ATM across the street would fix that problem.

When she spoke next he heard equal amounts of affection and gratitude in her voice, but knew she was turning him down. "Thank you Finch, it's been a long day though. Taylor has a science project to work on and then turn in early."

Joss was off her game today. She had apparently forgotten that Harold had spent most of the previous weekend at her apartment helping the young man complete his experiment - a voice activated robot. He wouldn't call her out on it though, she clearly needed space and the least he could do is respect her wishes - for now.

"Another time then," he quietly guaranteed, hoping Joss would hear his hidden offer. Nonetheless he made one more overture. "If you need anything Detective -"

"I'll call, I promise." He knew there was little chance that she would. "Good night Harold."

He didn't like the pain and resignation he heard in her voice; but he had grown close enough to her to realize now was not the time to push. "Good night Joss." He stayed on the line for a few seconds, the dial tone buzzing in his ear.

"_Stay out of it," _his practical side warned. He wasn't particularly skilled in handling matters of the heart, his own life was proof of that. Still Harold couldn't help but think of what he would want John or Joss to do if the situation were reversed and he was screwing up an opportunity to be with Grace.

Absurd really. The circumstances around each relationship were completely different. Grace knew he loved her, yet she knew nothing about the Machine and the work he did. He left her behind for her own safety. Joss and John loved each other - though Mr. Reese was ignoring that fact - and they were both aware of the dangers, and could protect themselves.

Harold sighed as he turned to retrieve his coat and briefcase from the small office Mira had set up for him. He would stay out of things for now, but Ms. Morgan's intrusion tonight had him worried. She was the wild card in this whole mess.

Without bothering to say goodbye, Harold limped to his car and headed towards Low Places, what he considered the finest burger joint in the city. Joss may have denied herself the cholesterol filled pleasure, but Finch decided he had earned his double bacon cheese burger today. Thirty minutes later he was pulling into a reserved parking spot, smiling as he entered the bustling country/western bar.

"Mr. Starling," Ruby, the owner whose hair was as bright as her name suggested, greeted him from behind the cash register. "We haven't seen you in a month of Sundays. I was beginning to think you had grown tired of my cooking." She stepped from behind the counter, her lime green apron doing little to hide her shapely figure.

"Never Ms. Ruby," Harold could feel a blush accompany the goofy grin decorating his face. He was a sucker for a red-head with a Southern accent. "My business has taken up all of my time lately."

"You need a new business," Ruby returned his grin, sidling up close with her pencil poised above her order pad. "I'm glad you stopped by, what can I get you darlin'?"

"I'll have my usual please." His mouth was already watering. This meal would be worth any extra time he would need to put in at his health club.

"Burn one, take it through the garden and pin a rose on it, Jack Benny style!" she shouted over the counter and into the open kitchen. "And an order of frog sticks in the alley!"

"Could you make that a sunrise special?" Putting up with that obnoxious imbecile of a manager at the Coronet entitled him to a fried egg on top of his burger. John got to punch the guy, so why couldn't Harold would deliver a punch to his arteries?

"Fry two and let the sun shine!" Ruby amended his order. Hank, the man behind the grill, took her instructions in stride, never missing a beat as he situated the meat, then broke two eggs over the sizzling grill.

"Will you be dining with us tonight? I always make sure to keep your table free, in case you stop by" Finch was tempted to stay, he truly enjoyed Ruby's company, but he was also worn out and wanted to make it home before the late winter snow storm set in.

"No, I'm afraid I can't." Maybe next time he would dine in and bring John along with him…maybe.

"Give it shoes!" she ordered the kitchen staff. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

Harold thought about ordering a strawberry milkshake just to hear Ruby yell out 'shake one in the hay'; but the amazing scent of hot apple pie fresh from the oven caught his attention. "Nothing to drink, but could I get -"

"Holly, grab me an Eve with a moldy lid please." It was scary how easily the woman read his mind. Ruby's little sister set about boxing up a slice of homemade apple pie with a generous wedge of cheese on top. "It's on the house," she informed him with a wink.

He knew better than to argue with the woman and accepted her generosity. Harold spent the next few minutes catching up on the latest goings on at Low Places, and made a mental note to buy the building next door so they could move forward with their expansion plans in the fall. All too soon his order was ready and he paid for his meal with a hearty tip and a promise to drop in soon.

Harold carefully worked his way to his car, the early snowfall combined with his limp made for a slow go. He was almost to his parking spot when the bank of payphones lining the sidewalk began ringing insistently. He knew better than to assume it was a coincidence. It wasn't surprising that they had a new number so soon; but he had hoped for a night off to rest. There was a chance it would be an easy one that he could handle himself and not involve John or their police assets.

He answered on the fifth ring, mentally ready to memorize the information for the short ride to the library. The garbled transmission started as usual, spitting out four words then…nothing. Finch stared at the receiver in his hand with the dial tone blaring through the speaker. That couldn't be right, the Machine had only given him a partial number.

He hung up and waited, perhaps a power surge had interrupted the call, but he knew that was not possible, he had built-in safeguards against such things. Worry over his baby had lingered in the back of his mind since Kara had managed to upload her virus all those months ago. Was this a fluke or the beginnings of a more sinister plot?

"Hey buddy, you done with the phone?" The man's question startled him out of his musings.

"Um, yes I am," Harold cast one last worried glance at the telephone kiosk before stepping back to allow the man to make his call. "Sorry," he mumbled, the apology unheard. He clutched the greasy bag in his hand and headed back to his car, the unhealthy treat all but forgotten. He needed to get back to the library and run a diagnostic check, "pop the hood" as John would say.

Traffic was relatively light as he slipped through the side streets. Bear greeted him with a gentle paw to his leg when he stepped off the last tread of the staircase. Finch paused for a moment to greet his dog, drawing a measure of comfort from the feel of his warm fur.

He gathered the four books needed to decode the short string of numbers, then sat down to shake the mouse and bring his creation to life. His hands trembling slightly, Harold plugged in the numbers, taken aback by the two million listings that popped up.

"This is going to take all night," he muttered to the Machine, half waiting for it to 'smile' at him as if this had been one big joke.

He tossed his burger and fries into their mini fridge and set a pot of tea on to brew. This was enough of an emergency he could bend his rules about eating or drinking around his keyboard. Finch sat down and began sorting through the list, weeding out the unlikely candidates first - high-profile names and people located outside the city of New York.

Several hours later he sat back and pushed his glasses up his forehead with a sigh, rubbing at bleary eyes. He had succeeded in whittling the list down to a few thousand names, but that was still too many possibilities and his gut was telling him they were out of time.

"There has to be a better way to do this," Finch moaned to the empty room. Bear shifted restlessly on his pallet at Harold's feet, laying his head on his knee to offer his support. "Well at least we know it's not our mutual acquaintance Bear." John had rescued Leon Tao so many times Finch had memorized that troublemaker's social security number.

Finch's eyes widened as an idea occurred to him. He went back to work sorting the numbers once again to cross reference the names with a list of people they had already saved, including close allies and assets. Within seconds one lone name was highlighted, a picture of her in full dress uniform displayed on the screen.

Detective Jocelyn Carter.

* * *

"Please John, do it for me?" Zoe lifted hopeful eyes to his as her nimble fingers continued to draw idle patterns across his bare chest.

John didn't have it in him to turn her down after the spectacular night they shared; but there was also no way he would dress up in a monkey suit and parade around on her arm at a party for the mayor and a thousand of his closest friends.

"I think you would look fabulous in a tux," she pouted as though she sensed his response.

No answer was the best answer the majority of the time, a philosophy he had perfected during his tenure with the CIA. Granted he usually employed that tactic when facing someone bent on torturing him for information, but one look at Zoe, naked and sprawled across his chest, John wasn't sure that she would not use the same measures to get the reply she wanted.

John flashed her what he hoped was a distracting grin and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead while he captured her wandering hand. He had to admit, he felt more relaxed and at peace, the ghosts from his past silent for now. It wouldn't last, but he could enjoy the respite for as long as possible.

"I'm sure I can convince you to say yes before next Friday." she muttered with an affectionate kiss against his abs before moving her lips lower.

John was saved from having to say anything by an insistent knock at the door. He tensed, cautious of the unexpected interruption, until he recognized Brandon's voice. John ignored Zoe's amused chuckle as his reaction and hopped out of bed to pull on his trousers.

"Hi John," the new bell boy smiled while trying to inconspicuously look over his shoulder. "Mr. Finch said he has been unable to reach you this evening. He asked that you contact him as soon as you can."

"Thank you Brandon. I'll give him a call right away." Damn! John knew it had been a mistake to take out his ear wig and turn off his phone; but he had been concerned about Finch hearing more than he bargained for if he decided to eavesdrop. Zoe approached him as he closed the door and kissed his lips one last time whispering "duty calls," before heading to the bathroom to freshen up.

She was still wheedling him about the fundraiser, but John ceased to hear anything as he plucked his cell phone from the pile of clothing hastily shed hours ago, and zeroed in on the phone's display. Twelve missed calls and three voicemails.

The earlier stinging sensation returned, mocking him as he scrolled through the call log with a trembling finger. Five missed calls from Finch, five from Fusco, and two from Taylor. Absent were missed calls from Carter, and his heart sank at the implications.

He should have listened to his body, damn it he knew better! John dialed Finch first, but the call went straight to voicemail. Fusco was second with the same results. He tried Taylor as well, but knew before he heard the recording that he wouldn't answer either.

John shoved his down his mounting dread as he listened to his messages on speaker phone while he continued getting dressed. Harold's voice filled the still air in the room: _Mr. Reese, there's been an accident, Detective Carter is…I don't have time to explain, but…Please call as soon as you get this._

"_No!" _John stumbled in buttoning his dress shirt. "_This was a mistake, it had to be." _

Fusco's gruff voice followed, out of breath as if he had run a great distance: _I don't know what's so important Wonder Boy that you can't answer the phone, but you need to get to New York Presbyterian as soon as you can. It's Carter._

His legs started shaking, and he dropped on to the bed before moving on to the last message. Taylor. Reese could hear tears in the young man's voice, each sniffle tearing at John's already shredded heart: _Hey John, I know it's been a while, but you said I could always call you if I needed anything. It's my mom, she's - _a knock in the background drew Taylor's attention away - _that's Grandma, I gotta go. Call if you can._

Real and true panic set in as he unleashed a guttural growl and called on every restraint available to him to keep from hurling his phone across the room. There were no words to accurately express the terror coursing through him. He was too late _again_, this was his fault.

He had shrugged on his jacket and was holstering his last weapon when Zoe reappeared from the bathroom. The teasing smile on her face faded when she stopped in front of him.

"John, what's wrong?"

"I have to go, Joss has been hurt." The last four words were painful to say, his failure difficult to admit. He couldn't bring himself to look at Zoe, knowing that while he was enjoying himself with her, Joss had been injured, severely injured judging from the tone of the three men in her life.

Genuine concern filtered through her expression, and she grabbed her purse, offering to go with him.

"No!" The curt answer was ripped from his throat, and he cringed at the fright in her eyes. He could apologize later, right now he needed to get to the hospital. John firmly squeezed her shoulder before heading out.

"Give my best to Detective Carter," Zoe's words were cut off by the slamming door as he pulled out his cell phone to try Finch again. No answer, only voicemail. John set his jaw and called Fusco, no answer again, only voicemail. Taylor's number also went unanswered.

John closed his eyes and forced several deep breaths through his nose, the unknown was eating him alive. "_This has to be a joke,"_ he told himself. A sick prank to get back at him for staying away so long. Joss was likely at home having a great laugh at his frenzied actions. To prove it to himself he dialed Carter's number, swearing violently when her voicemail picked up after several rings.

John peeled away from the curb and slid across the snowy road towards the hospital Fusco mentioned. He had no idea what he would do when he arrived, but he was desperate to see her.

Why had he been such an ass to her? He knew today had been rough for Joss, from having a dream job offer yanked away from her, finding out the man she was seeing could be a dirty cop, to killing a man only feet away from her desk. Honestly John had wanted to be there for her, to offer her a should to cry on and a comforting hug of sorts over the phone if not in person. But he had forced himself to stay away believing it was for the best….and while he was screwing around with Zoe, Joss had been hurt. He ran a red light and looked down at his phone, willing the screen to light up with an incoming call.

He was only blocks away from NYCP when the shrill ringing pierced the quiet of the car. "_Who do I kill?" "How is she?" "What the hell happened?" _all jockeyed for first place, but the most he could manage was a strangled "Finch?"

Fear scissor through John as he waited for the older man to speak. Harold's labored breathing grated across his already frayed nerves and images of the worst possible outcome ran through his mind. _"She can't be gone, she just couldn't be." _John would not accept that, he would know if Joss was gone.

The silence was maddening and John was about to prompt him again when Harold spoke.

"John. I'm so glad you called." He sounded exhausted, resigned.

"Harold?" He swallowed around the lump in his throat. "How is she?"

"Joss is in serious, but stable condition. She finally made it out of surgery to repair the damage to her shoulder from the gunshot wound." Another pause and deep breath told him there was more than Finch was revealing at the moment. "Her doctor says she is holding her own, which is remarkable considering…" he trailed off again, the hesitation irritating John further. He could hazard a guess about what his partner wanted to tell him, but he needed to hear Finch say it.

"Finch!" he barked into the phone.

"Joss was pronounced dead at the scene."

'_God no!' _John found himself praying for the first time in years. The wave of grief that hit him in that moment was so crushing he barely managed to pull the car into a parking lot next to an abandoned warehouse. His body broke out in a cold sweat as bile rose in the back of his throat. History was repeating itself, like Jessica, he had not made it in time to save Joss. He had promised her she would never be alone, yet when she needed him the most he wasn't there. When would he learn?

John had forced himself to cut all ties with her after their run in with Donnelly and Stanton because he realized what an association with him would cost her. He cared too deeply for Carter and Taylor to risk ruining their lives. He was poisonous, radioactive, infecting everything he touched. Surely they were better off without him and the baggage he lugged behind him.

"John?"

"I'm here Finch," was all he could say around the constriction in his throat. The news was a stunning blow. Joss had died and he was not there to protect her, it was as simple as that. He had sworn to himself he would keep her safe, and had told her as much after Bottle Cap had shot her in that alley. "What the hell happened?"

"Detective Carter was working a murder investigation with Detective Terney this evening near Morningside Heights."

What? Joss had just finished a punishing work week. She was supposed to be at home with Taylor tonight, making batches of oatmeal raisin cookies for the PTA bake sale that weekend. She had run herself ragged over the last seven days and more than deserved a night off.

John sighed and raked a hand through his hair. God, if he had known she was going to go back to work he would not have taken Zoe up on her offer. He would have shadowed Carter and made sure she got home safely, just as he had done for the past two months.

"Detective Fusco is working to get the official statement," Finch continued. "But preliminary accounts from the officers on scene indicate Joss was processing evidence at the victim's apartment when she was ambushed. Likely the killer returned to retrieve some damning evidence and caught her by surprise."

"Get me that report Harold," John demanded. He was already formulating his plan for vengeance, any pledge he made to Joss about sparing lives was null and void now. If it were anyone else, anything else, he could step back and let the justice system punish the perpetrator…but not this, not after what was done to her.

"You'll have it as so as I do Mr. Reese." John had half expected Finch to protest, take up the banner for law and order in Carter's absence. Harold's silent endorsement of his obvious plans for mayhem and murder spoke volumes about the gravity of the situation.

"We will be able to see her momentarily," Finch paused as though considering his next words. "I'll tell her you send your best if you'd like." Harold knew without asking that John was keeping his distance from the female detective. That ended tonight. He may have been the one to continue widening the gap between them; but there was no way he would stay away now, not when she was so vulnerable.

"I'll tell her myself. I'm almost there." John flexed his hands around the steering wheel as he pulled back out into the deserted street. The snowfall made the drive tricky, but it also kept other motorists inside and out of his way.

"Very well Mr. Reese." Was it his imagination or was that a hint of approval in the older man's voice. "Might I suggest that you wait until her fellow law enforcement colleagues depart?"

In his haste to get to her John had quite forgotten that he couldn't stroll in and camp out by her bedside…unless, "Finch can you -"

"One step ahead of you John." He should have known Harold would have planned out every detail. "Give me ten minutes, then come through the backdoor at the southeast corner of the emergency room."

John reluctantly ended the call, reassuring himself that he would be able to see her, touch her momentarily and verify her condition for himself.

He turned into the hospital's parking garage and found an empty space in a darkened corner where he did a lousy impersonation of a man waiting patiently. Exactly ten minutes later he entered the ER and was met by a fatigued Detective Fusco who escorted him to Joss' private room.

"Glad you finally showed up John," Lionel groused. "Carter needs you to stick around this time."

"I'm not going anywhere Lionel," Reese vowed, exchanging a solemn glance with Joss' surly partner. John meant what he said to both Finch and Fusco. He couldn't keep living with one foot in her world and one out. There were only two choices at this point: leave, walk away for good or stay and be in, all in. Walking away wasn't an option anymore, not after tonight. As they reached the door to her room he solidified his commitment - he was all in.

Fusco stepped aside to allow John to precede him into the room when the door swung open and Taylor Carter walked out.

John froze, one of the few times in his life where he was unsure how to handle a situation. Before he could even offer anything resembling an apology a relieved but distant smile quirked across the teen's face as he leaned in for a quick hug.

He couldn't find the words to convey his gratefulness for the young man's gesture, but returned the embrace with equal emotion. He didn't deserve Taylor's forgiveness or sympathy after what he had done. John was not there to prevent his mom from being injured and taken away from him. How did you make amends to a teenager for almost making them an orphan?

"Good to see ya John," Taylor mumbled as if he too didn't know what to say.

The door swung open again halting any reply from leaving his lips. John was able to catch a brief glimpse of Joss' still form before an older woman, a graceful older version of his Joss, stepped through, followed by Finch.

"Thank you again Mr. Finch. I can't tell you how much your generosity means to our family."

"Harold, please," Finch insisted. "A private room is the least I can do after all the help your daughter has provided me Mrs. Daniels."

"Sofia," she countered, grasping his hand in both of hers. "I would love to hear about the work she has done for you sometime; but for now I need to get Taylor home."

The pair drew up short as they noticed Fusco and John for the first time. Sofia sent Fusco a warm smile that faltered slightly when her nutmeg colored eyes landed on John. Harold quickly jumped in to make the awkward introduction.

"Sofia, this is my associate, John Reese. Jocelyn assisted him on several of our most challenging cases."

Sofia's sharp gaze zeroed in on the arm John still had around her grandson's shoulders; but she said nothing more than a soft "Pleased to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine ma'am." A faint blush colored her cheeks as she grasped his hand in a firm shake reminiscent of Joss' grip. Something told him that like her daughter, Sofia Daniels could not be easily swayed by his charm.

To her credit, Carter's mom left matters at that and did not voice the questions she was obviously listing in her head. John would one day have to answer those questions, ready or not. And judging by the furrow in Sofia's brow, he would not be the only one. Joss worked hard to keep her two lives from intersecting, but thanks to him they had in a dramatic way.

"Sofia," Finch softly intervened. "If you and Taylor are ready Thomas will take you home."

At the mention of his name, the nondescript middle-aged man pushed away from the opposite wall and joined the group. John exchanged a short nod with the man, comfortable in Finch's choice of escort for Carter's mother and son. Thomas had been an employee at one of the multiple security firms Harold owned for over ten years. John had secretly read through his bio when he worked with him on a number early on and was confident in the man's skills.

"Thank you again." She nodded towards Harold then encompassed the group. "Taylor and I will be back first thing in the morning to visit Jocelyn before school."

Sofia took a small step forward, then hesitated and looked back at her daughter's room. John could see she was attempting to hold things together for Taylor; but the fear and worry - emotions he shared - for her only child was clearly evident in the tight lines around her lips and eyes.

"I know the doctor said she would sleep through the night; but…"

"I'll call you if there are any changes," Fusco volunteered.

"Thank you Detective Fusco," Sofia warmly squeezed his forearm. "Despite the circumstances I am glad to finally meet you. My daughter has told me so much about you."

"All good I hope," Fusco mumbled while he ducked his head.

Inwardly John chucked at Lionel's apprehensive expression, and wondered what exactly Joss had revealed to her mom.

"Of course," she reassured him with a mischievous smile that caused the man to turn red as a beet. "Taylor we'd better be going."

Taylor stepped out of John's embrace to join his grandmother; but not before turning back to address John. "We'll talk later?"

The hopeful expression tugged at John's spirit. It pained him to know he had hurt Taylor as well with his absence - one that was looking less and less necessary by the minute. He missed being a part of the young man's life, but was for his own good. Given how this evening had ended Reese wasn't so sure of that assessment any more.

John didn't trust himself to say much and instead nodded with a tight smile. "I promise."

Carter's son was satisfied with that answer and waved goodbye to the trio before joining his grandmother and their bodyguard.

Sofia Daniels also bid the gentlemen a final goodbye, her curious stare lingering on John a few seconds longer before retreating down the hallway.

The three men stood in the corridor awkwardly listening to the late night hospital noises - random pages from the operator, idle chit-chat at the nurse's station, and the steady hum of a floor buffer several rooms away.

John's eyes remained fixed on the floor just beneath the door to Joss' room. His need to see her, confirm with his own eyes and hands that she was still alive had been suffocating; but now that he was here, confronted with the reality his careless actions had created, he wasn't sure he could go through with it.

Fusco was the first to recover and break the silence. "I'm gonna head back to the crime scene - or what's left of it - and follow-up on the investigation into Carter's attack." John puzzled over his words as Lionel took a few steps back. "Call me if uh, she wakes up or…"

"We will, thank you Detective." Finch quietly affirmed with a hand to his shoulder.

Lionel lifted his chin towards Reese in a curt nod, then beat a hasty retreat back to his squad car. The slap of his cheap shoes on the shiny linoleum faded as he turned the corner, leaving John and his boss alone in the corridor. Harold's voice seemed overly loud to John's ears when he spoke.

"John if you would rather -"

"No Harold," he rasped. "I want to see her." That was a true statement, he very much needed to lay his eyes on her, watch her chest rise and fall with each breath, feel her pulse pound strong and steady under his fingertips, hear the heart monitor announce each beat. But his fear was neck and neck with that desperation, preventing him from stepping over the threshold. What if something had happened in the last few moments that took her away from him?

"Take your time," Harold encouraged him, moving forward to intercept the charge nurse heading towards them.

John inhaled deeply and reached a shaky hand for the door. Truthfully he would rather deal with the reality of Joss' injuries on his own, without anyone gauging his reactions. He marshaled all of his energy into putting one foot in front of the other until he was in her room, the heavy oak door clicking closed behind him. Once inside he stepped closer to the bed, his eyes pouring over every inch of her small frame. Nothing Finch said would have prepared John for the first sight of Joss' battered body.

Pristine bandages cradled her right temple, while more wrapped around her shoulder. Her right arm was immobilized in a web of Velcro and polyester, and clear tubing held an oxygen cannula in place across her nose. Her smooth skin, normally warm and glowing, was now ashen and littered with scratches and contusions that blurred into obscurity from the tears pooling in his eyes. Joss looked so fragile, a shadow of her normal self.

John felt his jaw muscles tighten painfully as his searching gaze landed on the swelling and bruising that marred her jaw line. In the dim overhead lighting John caught sight of the mottled fingertip marks ringing her neck and his heart stopped. Vehement curses begged to be released as he studied the discoloration a second longer. _"What in God's name happened?!" _Without hesitation John sank into the chair on her left side and reached for her hand to tenderly bring it to his lips.

"Forgive me," he breathed against her cool flesh, noting with mounting curiosity the faint odor of smoke that masked her usual fragrance, a sunny combination of apples and fresh flowers. John hoped Joss could hear him wherever she was at the moment. He wanted to say more, but that would have to wait. For now he needed to be with Joss, to make sure she survived her injuries and got well. There would be plenty of time later to hunt down the bastard responsible.

John took a small measure of comfort in that vow. He would track the man down to the ends of the earth if necessary and make him pay - slowly, painfully, until death would be considered a gesture of mercy.

He pressed one last kiss to her fingers before lowering her hand to the mattress without releasing it. He didn't bother to hide his tears when he heard Finch limp into the room and drop into the chair opposite him with a sigh.

"The night nurse, Glenda, informed me that an uniformed officer will be here soon to stand watch over Detective Carter; but he's been delayed by the weather." John merely nodded, his eyes lingering on Joss, wondering at the changes that had occurred during his absence. She seemed smaller than he remembered, and it was clear she had lost weight since that November night.

"I've arranged for a private security detail as well until we've dealt with this threat."

John didn't waste his time telling Finch he needn't bother. From now on he would watch over Joss, just as he should have done in the first place. He continued to stare at her as the implications of his recent actions hit home again. She was supposed to be safer without him in her life…yet here she was, lying in a hospital bed recovering from a deadly beating.

"What did her doctor say?" John wanted more conformation than what his own senses were giving him. Joss was lying so still in that damn bed that he was afraid to trust the steady blip of the heart monitor.

"Dr. Pearson was impressed by her improvement with all things considered, but says Joss is a fighter. She is still serious but stable…almost as if someone gave her a second chance." Finch paused to let his words sink in before cataloguing her injuries.

"The bullet nicked her clavicle, but missed the major artery. Surgery was successful in repairing the damage and with the right amount of physical therapy and rest she should recover fully."

Finch removed his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Fortunately, depending on how you look at it, two of her ribs were cracked, not broken as first suspected, with no damage to her lungs. Once she wakes up we'll get a better idea of the severity of her head injury; but Dr. Pearson feels we're looking at a mild concussion at the very least."

He sat back with a sigh and stretched his leg as far as the rail on the hospital bed would allow. "The bruising around her throat resulted from manual strangulation - likely someone left-handed - and the doctor feels the swelling in her jaw should go down over the next day or so."

John mentally traced the bandages swaddling her temple, then reached out a shaking hand to gently follow the same path. When she was awake and ready she would tell him exactly what happened in precise detail so that he could inflict the same pain and terror on her attacker before he killed him. John caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers before pulling away, feeling more than a little hypocritical. He didn't need to look any further than himself to find the man responsible. If he had been able to get his head out of his ass sooner he could have been there for Carter tonight, could have protected her when she was fighting for her life.

"The doctor speculated that her head wound was caused by the butt of a gun," Harold offered. "although it is difficult to discern what injuries were inflicted by her attacker, and which were caused by the fire."

"Fire?" John's gaze snapped back to Finch. That explained the traces of smoke clinging to her, but raised more questions than it answered.

"Yes, the investigators are speculating that the attacker caught Joss by surprise, assaulted her, then panicked when he thought she was dead and set the apartment on fire to cover up both crimes." He replaced his glasses and continued in a clinical tone. "She inhaled quite a bit of smoke, but there does not appear to be any serious damage."

John didn't say anything for several moments. He did not think he could take much more, but Joss had been able to survive the assault so he could bear to hear about it. He needed to know everything she had suffered tonight. John unconsciously tightened his grip on Joss' hand, wishing for all the world that she would squeeze it back.

"If not for the anonymous 911 call, the firefighters might have gotten there too late." John chose not to focus on Finch's last two words. In his mind it already was too late since this was never supposed to happen to begin with. The details he had so far about the attack didn't set right with him, this seemed more than a botched crime scene clean up.

"Anonymous call Finch?"

"I found that odd too. An unknown male called in to report the fire, claiming he saw a police officer re-enter the building." Harold seemed to consider that before he voiced his theory. "You don't suppose it was the killer/attacker calling because of a change of heart?"

"A killer who had a change of heart after several attempts to make sure she died? It's not impossible, but seems unlikely." John ran a hand across his bleary eyes and glanced over at his partner. "Can you trace the 911 call? Perhaps the caller saw something that will help us find this son of a bitch."

"That is high on my to-do list when I get back to the library. I'll also be looking into other possibilities aside from the case Joss was working on." So he wasn't the only one doubting the official explanation.

"Other possibilities meaning you don't believe their story either?" He had trouble accepting that a killer with a conscience could get the drop on Joss. John had not ruled out Elias, HR, or some other organization as the culprit either. He trusted Finch and Fusco to handle the investigation for now, he was not leaving Joss' side until he absolutely had to.

"Not entirely. I've got Fusco quietly putting out feelers within HR for confirmation. You would think they would know better, but…" Finch shrugged and let the words hang there. John was sure his employer would deny it, but he felt the accusation all the same. HR, Elias, or anyone paying the least bit of attention had probably noticed the Man in the Suite's distraction and thought Detective Carter was fair game. He would prove that theory wrong.

"If there is any silver lining in this whole mess," Harold spoke so softly John strained to hear him, "it is that the sex assault kit came back negative."

John pinned the man to his chair with a cold stare, dropping Joss' hand in fear he would accidentally crush it in the surge of rage sweeping through him. He couldn't bring himself to ask Finch why that particular test was warranted, a hot fury choking him. Words dammed up in his throat, unable to find a way out.

"Her bl - blouse was ripped open and her….her pants were undone when the paramedics brought her in." Finch managed to stammer out. "Dr. Pearson didn't want to take a chance, and decided to run a preliminary battery of tests to confirm or rule-out sexual assault."

'_God help this man when I find him' _John swore, fighting to erase the image of some unknown man pinning her down and trying to rape her. Joss was tough, but she must have been terrified. He wanted to reach out and touch her, hold her, but he held himself back. She probably would not welcome the contact if she were awake.

One question had nagged John all night, and now it was time for him to get an answer. "Why didn't her number come up Harold?" Surely the Machine would have known if a friend was in trouble; and Finch sure as hell would have found a way to contact him immediately if it had. He had kept his distance from Carter, but he had continued to watch over her. Nothing would have kept him from reaching her if he knew there was an immediate threat. Nothing he reiterated, more for his own peace of mind.

"Her number did come up in a manner of speaking." Finch hurriedly continued when John narrowed his gaze. "I was heading home from dinner when I got the call as usual. Only this time I was given just the first four digits of a social security number."

"Has the Machine ever done this before?" Their silent partner was always accurate and reliable.

"No. I'm assuming this is somehow related to the virus Kara uploaded last year. I sorted through several thousand names before I had the computer filter the list by previous numbers we've helped." Finch shifted in his chair uncomfortably. "By the time I matched the partial social security number to Detective Carter, Fusco was calling to tell me about the attack." Sadness cloaked his friend, a testament to how much he cared for the woman lying in the hospital bed. "I'm so sorry John, if I had -"

"No Finch," he snarled. "This is my fault and I -"

"John it's not -" Finch attempted to speak over him, but John wouldn't allow it.

"It is and we both know it. But this ends here."

The pair sat in silence for several moments until Finch's cell phone jangled. Thomas was calling to check in. Sofia and Taylor were safely tucked away at her home, and the perimeter was secure. Once their business was concluded, Finch disconnected the call and stood to grab his jacket.

"It's time for me to head back to the library, Detective Fusco should be checking in soon. I'll see if I can dig up anything on the case Joss was working or our mystery 911 caller."

"Thank you Harold," John whispered, part of him relieved to have some time alone with Joss and his dark thoughts. "For everything."

"I'll call if I find out anything." Harold promised before gingerly squeezing Joss' hand and limping out the door.

Once the door closed John released a pent-up huff of air and leaned in to study Joss more carefully, noting subtle changes the last few weeks had wrought. Her usually warm caramel skin had lost its luster and paled several shades. Dark circles under her eyes, told him she had not been sleeping well or at all.

John stretched to look out the window and watch the snow blanket the cityscape before returning his attention to Joss. His heart broke when he noticed a single tear slipping down her cheek. He couldn't stop himself from reaching out with a feather light touch to wipe it away. "I would take this pain for you if I could," he whispered, his eyes focused on the sight of her tiny hand wrapped in his larger one.

"You could try, but I wouldn't let you," The hoarse answer wrenched him out of his haze. He looked up to see her sooty eyelashes flutter against her cheek bones before opening to reveal tired dark eyes. "Hi stranger," she breathed with a small grin in his direction. "Long time no see."

"Joss." Her name came out in a husky breath and for the first time in months a genuine smile tilted his lips. All of his earlier fears melted away as a heady sense of relief engulfed him.

John noticed her throat working hard to swallow and knew from personal experience that it was likely raw and dry as a bone. He stood and released her hand briefly to pour her a glass of water, bringing the straw to her parched lips for a small sip. "We can sort that out later, how are you feeling?"

"Like I was hit by a train, but I'll live." Her brow furrowed in confusion and she raised panicked eyes to him. "Where's Taylor?" She moved to sit up, wincing in pain as the movement jostled her wounded shoulder.

"Joss wait," He cautiously stopped her efforts and lowered her back onto the pillow. John settled on the bed next to her and reclaimed her hand. "Taylor is fine, he's with your mom at her home. There is a marked unit sitting on her house as well as a team from Finch's private security firm." Her anxiety seemed to ease somewhat and she reclined fully onto her pillow with a mild grimace. "He's safe, I promise." The words were meant to reassure her, but they mocked him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He half expected Carter to light into him and tell him exactly how worthless his promises were to her at this point. Instead she gripped his hand and studied him with a peculiar smile. The look made him nervous, a sensation he was quickly growing tired of.

"Thank you," she murmured in the same tone she used in his kitchen all those months ago.

"You should try to get some more rest," John glanced away, unsettled by the tender light in her eyes. "Fusco and Finch are already working on evidence from the scene, we'll find who did this Joss."

"That's one of the things I love about you John," the words were spoken without an ounce teasing or guile. "You always make me feel safe, special."

John was floored by her admission. _'Love?'_ Surely she meant love in terms of friendship or a sibling type of feeling; but the look of adoration and desire that accompanied her next words proved that theory wrong.

"I love you John Reese."

He froze, certain he had fallen asleep at her bedside and this was a crazy, stress induced dream. What else would explain her bold confession?

One look in her eyes though confirmed that he was wide awake, and Joss was expecting an answer from him. John felt woefully under trained for this sort of attack, and his usual tactics for weird emotional moments were useless to him now.

Maybe Joss was afraid she was going to die and wanted him to know how much she cared…maybe; but that excuse sounded absurd even to his own ears.

"I love you too Joss." John told her, the words sincere but floundering on his tongue. He hoped he wasn't making the situation worse, and rushed to add. "You are getting the best care Finch's money can buy, believe me, I checked."

"No you don't understand," Despite her fragile condition, Joss increased the pressure on his hand and closed her eyes for a brief moment. Opening them again she spoke softly. "I'm in love with you John."

Not for the first time that night he felt his heart skip several beats. It couldn't be, the pain medication must be putting words in her mouth because Joss Carter was not in love with him. It was laughable really, but even as he denied it, John thought back to several instances that seemed to corroborate her words.

Reese patted her hand as though she were a small child while laying it on the covers. The walls seemed a little to close for his comfort, and he maneuvered off the bed to stare out the fifth floor windows, searching the snowy field below as if it were a large piece of paper with the right answer written on it.

John felt a deep kinship with Joss, one that defied logic at times given their unconventional relationship. He honestly cared for her and her son, but he didn't have romantic feelings for her; if anything he would call it brotherly love…well kind of….mostly…hell, a man would have to be blind not to notice how beautiful she was. John was man enough to admit that he _had_ caught himself staring at her on more than one occasion; but that did not mean anything. He was more like an a fine art connoisseur appreciating a great work.

Yeah, okay, that awful analogy meant he was officially exhausted.

All in all, John did not have many people in his life he would label as friends; and he did not want to lose Joss. He glanced up at the muted grey sky and took a fortifying breath. He needed to let her down carefully so she wouldn't pull away from him in hurt.

"Joss I -" he stopped mid-turn to find her sound asleep, a soft snore emanating from her slightly opened mouth. Talk about lousy timing. He was tempted to wake her and moved towards the bed to do just that. "Joss?" he hummed, tentatively wiggling her foot to no avail.

John huffed in frustration, he wanted to finish their conversation, to clear the air so there would be no embarrassing feelings later that might prevent them from working together in the future. He was uneasy with this revelation lingering between them, but he didn't have the heart to try waking her again. She needed sleep to heal; but that didn't stop him from testing out his psychic powers as he dropped back into his bedside chair, willing her to wake up.

The door opened at that moment and John jumped, ready to shield Joss from whoever walked through. The older charge nurse, Glenda if he remembered correctly, flinched and placed a surprised hand to her heart. "Oh! I'm so sorry to have startled you Detective -"

"Marshal Jennings," he smoothly corrected her, impulsively throwing the name around.

"Marshal Jennings," she repeated with a small nod before moving to check the levels of Joss' IV. "Detective Carter is doing much better. You should be proud of her, she is one tough lady."

"_You have no idea,"_ John thought, but merely smiled at Glenda in agreement.

"If you don't mind me saying so Marshal, you look terrible." She noted her findings on the clipboard fastened to the foot of the bed, then turned her attention to him. "You should go home and get some rest. Detective Carter will likely sleep for several more hours. The surgical anesthesia is pretty powerful stuff." At his disbelieving look she rushed to comfort him. "Don't worry dear, we'll take excellent care of her."

"Thank you Glenda, I know you will." He turned his most charming grin on her and promised he would not stay much longer.

Satisfied, the gray-haired nurse slipped from the room and John plopped back into the chair, leaning back fully with his forearm covering his eyes. _"What a night - or is it morning now?"_ Glenda had the right idea, he should get some sleep; but he doubted that would come easily tonight. Nightmares were almost a guarantee, but John decided to try just the same.

He shifted in the chair with a yawn, trying to find a semi comfortable position, and eyed Joss' still sleeping form. She probably wouldn't wake up until tomorrow - or later that day - he corrected himself with a glance at his watch. John still could not wrap his head around her declaration. Jocelyn Carter, the woman who held on to her rule book as tightly as an alcoholic did his bottle, was in love with him, a debauched vigilante with no past or future. It was funny really when he thought about it - kind of. He allowed himself a smug smirk before he closed his eyes, still pondering what his next move would be.

* * *

A buzzing sounded in his ear and he reached up to swat away the annoying insect.

"Mr. Reese?"

At the sound of Harold's voice he bolted upright, knocking his knee against the cold bed railing. Groggily he checked his watch and was startled to realize he had been asleep for more than an hour. "Yeah Finch, I'm here." he croaked before taking a sip of the water on the roll away table. He leaned forward to check on Joss, who was still sleeping, but with tight lines of pain marring her forehead.

"I hate to ask; but we have another number that needs our immediate attention."

"Can Fusco take this one?" John was ready to go back to sleep, and he was not comfortable leaving Joss alone.

"Detective Fusco is across town checking in with a CI for a lead on our attacker." Finch sounded as tired as John felt. "I would try to take care of this one if I could Mr. Reese; but it's a little outside of my skill set. Our number is a five-year old boy who was just kidnapped by his nanny and her boyfriend. It seems he is in debt to some rather unsavory characters."

No that one would not wait. "Text the information to me, I'll be right there." he promised Finch, standing to stretch and work out the kinks in his back.

"Sending it to you now." Finch paused on the line as if he wanted to say something else. John waited for him while he put on his coat and strapped on his Sig Sauer. Finch didn't disappoint, "Brett and Ryan will take good care of Joss."

"_Better than I was able to."_ Reese sourly finished his employer's sentence, even though Finch would deny those words. His gnawing guilt would have to take a backseat until a more suitable time, a child's life was hanging in the balance and the boy didn't have time to wait while John wallowed in pity over his recent failure.

Besides if Joss were awake she would insist he go - no, the stubborn woman would undoubtedly pick herself up off of her sick-bed and go herself if he didn't. He would only be gone a short while, then he would be back. Nothing could keep him away. "I know Finch, I trust you. I'll let you know when I have the boy."

John tapped the earwig and ended the call before Harold could say more. He couldn't linger any longer, but he spared Joss one last look, and leaned over to softly kiss her forehead. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he promised, while tucking s loose strand of hair behind her ear, then turned to leave

In the hallway he quickly scanned his surroundings and noted a young uniformed officer leaning against the nurse's desk engaged in a flirty conversation with a young blonde in purple scrubs. The two bodyguards Finch assigned to watch Joss nodded in turn as John glanced at the closed doorway one last time before slipping out into the frigid night to do for a stranger what he had been unable to do for Joss.

* * *

**A/N: I hope this was worth the wait! I went through about six rough drafts of this chapter, but I'm satisfied with it for the most part lol. I wanted to interject a little lightness into the story so I added the diner scene with Finch and Ruby. I'm toying with the idea of another story where Finch and Reese have to work in a diner to protect their number. Finch would love it, John? Not so much. I also have to agree with a lot of reviewers who expressed their dislike for Zoe. She is an interesting character and I like her by herself, but not with John. So I'll try to be kind to her, but well we'll see :-)**

**Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to leave me a review, they each mean so much to me - my cheeks hurt from smiling so much when I read them :-D. You guys are the absolute best! I would love to be able to respond to each review individually if anyone knows how? As always, any suggestions or direction is welcome; and I owe a special thank you to logosvital who asked for John's point of view on the events of chapter one in this chapter. I had planned to pick up with Finch calling John in the hotel, but that inspired me to backtrack a little and added a lot of depth to the story!** **And thank you to my husband who has agreed to lend me his law enforcement expertise and insight - see I told you I'd remember! Thank you again for taking the time to read my newest chapter, I'm a little stuck on the end of chapter 3, but hope to have another update soon! **


	3. Chapter 3

**I do not own Person of Interest or any characters you might recognize.**

* * *

"_Excuse me?" Joss cut her cheery duet of 'Jingle Bells' with Bing Crosby short to launch a curious glance at John Reese._

"_I said you're doing that wrong." He sipped his coffee and continued to watch her as if he had just told her something as insignificant as 'the sky is blue'._

_Who did that man think he was talking to? She had made her grandmother's cornbread dressing for decades without his help._ _Winning one "bake-off" - a victory that was still under review in her book - did not make him Betty Crocker_.

"_You're not cutting that celery correctly." John pushed away from the kitchen's island and moved to stand behind her, his body heat warding off any chill that hung in the pre-dawn air. "But I am willing to show you how to do it the right way, if you ask me nicely."_

_Joss didn't even bother to contain her laughter. "I'd be careful if I were you John. The knife I am holding is very sharp." She continued to chop the vegetables on the board in front of her, but angled her body back just enough to rest against his solid frame._

"_Is it now?" he murmured, while his hands slipped over hers to still her movements, laying the knife and produce aside. "Duly noted detective."_

_The low purr in his voice should have hinted at what was coming next, but instead it lulled her into state of relaxation as his fingers teased the edge of her pajama top before scaling up her sides to tickle her ribs._

"_Stop it!" Joss could hardly get the words out around the fit of giggles that choked her as John continued his delightful torture. She twisted and squirmed as best she could, but no amount of wriggling gained her freedom._ _If he kept this up there would be disastrous - not to mention embarrassing - consequences considering the two cups of coffee she enjoyed earlier. "You better stop tickling me or I'll -"_

"_Or you'll what Joss?" His fingers finally stopped, but her heart continued to race as his warm breath brushed the outer shell of her ear. Any hope of a retaliatory strike was washed away in the wave of goose bumps that swept across her skin from the hot kiss he pressed against her ear. _

"_Don't be shy," he encouraged her as his lips nuzzled their way down the long muscle of her neck, taking the time to love each inch of skin in their path. "What are you going to do to me?"_

_The cad, he sounded more turned on than intimidated. Only John Reese could take her threat, which usually had criminals whining for their lawyers, and turn it into something so incredibly sexy. _

"_I'll…well that is…if you don't…oh!" He nipped at a particularly sensitive spot close to her collar-bone, while his talented hands moved to cup her breasts. Drats! What was she going to say? Whatever it had been was lost in the shimmering effect his kisses had on her senses. _

"_Umm, I was going to…" Joss felt the man's cocky smile against her skin as he nosed aside the flimsy strap of her tank top and pressed another open mouth kiss to her shoulder. She bit back a moan as he trailed his strong hands along her stomach to land at her waist._ _John pulled her firmly into the cradle of his hips and she felt his obvious arousal pressing into her backside._ _The pressure of his lips intensified and the stubble on his jaw created a delicious friction where it scraped against her skin._

_She knew she needed to put a stop to their activities - for now - if she had any hope of getting her holiday dinner ready in time for their guests. Her mom, Taylor, Finch, Grace, Lionel and Lee, Rhonda, and even Leon would be arriving by noon. They were bound to suspect something if she didn't have the meal on the table by then. She had stressed lunch would be served by then, and everyone knew what a stickler she was for punctuality. _

_She closed her eyes as John moved to nibble her ear, the sound of his labored breathing as arousing as his other efforts. Joss knew her words would be in vain, but she attempted a half-hearted protest. "John," his name came out as a sigh._

"_Joss," he breathed as his hands skimmed up her flat stomach._

"_We can't, mmmmm, yes…I mean no, we can't do this now." Maybe if she turned up the temperature on the turkey they would have time. _

"_Why can't we baby?" His questing hands had found their target, and the feel of his work roughened palms against her nipples caused her to falter. "I want you." _

_Wait, why couldn't they do this now? Oh, guests coming over. "Everyone will be here soon." Deep breath Joss. "If dinner is late they'll know what we've been doing." She wasn't sure if the blush overtaking her body was due to John's ministrations or the thought of being caught having sex by her mother and their friends. _

"_Joss, honey," his voice dropped to a raspy whisper against her jaw and his fingers dipped under the waistband of her sleep shorts. "As long as I get to make love to you - several times - I don't care what they think." No it was definitely John._

_Unable to stand it any longer, Joss turned around to capture his lips with hers. The preparations for Thanksgiving dinner lay forgotten on the counter behind her, all that mattered in this moment was the man in front of her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to allow him to deepen the kiss. John tasted of blueberries and powdered sugar from his earlier breakfast of cake doughnuts, and she smiled at the contradiction it represented. Her gruff vigilante had a sweet tooth that would put a horde of trick-or-treaters on Halloween night to shame. _

_John shoved aside the clutter on the countertop and lifted her to sit in front of him. Joss opened her legs to encircle his hips and draw him closer. shuddering when they connected in the most intimate of ways._

_Sleet pelted the floor to ceiling windows, magnifying the warmth of John's embrace and Joss' sense of belonging. As cliché as it sounded, being in his arms felt right, like coming home. John drew back from their kiss to tenderly cup her face in his powerful hands and stare into eyes. "I love you," he whispered before taking her lips in a searing kiss that had her toes curling inside her fuzzy reindeer socks. "Don't ever forget that," he entreated against her mouth while hooking her legs around his waist and scooping her up._

_Joss buried her face against his neck as John carried her out of the kitchen to his bed. "Stay with me Joss?" He asked, tightening his grip on her ass, his fingers both caressing and desperate. Where did he think she would go? As far as Joss was concerned, there was no place on earth she would rather be than in his bed. _

_Off in the distance the chime of some sort of bell sounded. It couldn't be guests arriving already, and to her knowledge John did not have a doorbell The blip sounded again and Joss turned her head left then right to find the source. Please God don't let it be her sadistic alarm clock about to ruin a fantastic dream. But this felt too real to be a dream, and if it was she didn't want to wake up._

_John seemed to notice her attention slipping away. "Wait for me, please?" Joss opened her mouth to reassure him, but could not utter a sound. "As long as it takes?" _

_She inclined her head, seeking to answer him with a kiss instead, but an invisible wall separated them now. The ringing intensified as John and his apartment faded into nothingness._

Joss' eyes popped open with an audible groan at the textured white ceiling that greeted her. Damn. It had all been a dream, just like the other ones. Well not exactly like the other ones. This fantasy so vivid and intense Joss could have sworn every kiss, every touch was real. That sensation left her floating in a weird state of limbo.

She closed her eyes to try to recapture the cozy images when the noise that interrupted her dream in the first place made itself known again, and again, and again. That definitely did not sound like her bedside clock, and a sliver of worry crept in. Joss tried to lift herself up to survey her surroundings, but pain from almost every part of her body hampered her movements and forced her to lie back against her pillow. Tears stung her eyes as a cold knot of dread unfurled in the pit of her stomach. Ok, she was definitely in a hospital, but where, and more importantly why?

_"Oh God, had there been an accident? Was Taylor alright?"_ Panic cleared away the last cobwebs of sleep and she blinked back the gathering tears as she fought to recall her last clear memory.

A murder scene. She was alone processing evidence at a crime scene, waiting on Terney for some reason, but the details beyond that were hazy to nonexistent.

Where was her phone? She needed to check on Taylor then call Fusco. If anyone knew what had happened her partner would.

Joss clenched her teeth against the rising nausea and finally managed to sit up only to have the walls blur together into one swirling blob. She reached up to massage her throbbing temple, and was taken aback when her fingers came into contact with a thick padding. _A head injury? _How long had she been unconscious dreaming about making love to John Reese? Weeks? Months? Years?

The internet was full of stories about people with head injuries who survived in comas for years….was that what had happened? Had she been "sleeping" for the last ten years? The blip of the heart monitor picked up to mark her increasing distress.

"It is 2013, Barack Obama is the president, my name is Jocelyn Marie Carter, I have a son Taylor, my address is -"

The room's door flew open to reveal a worried young woman who rushed in to cut her memory test short.

"Whoa, take it easy Detective Carter. Don't try to get out of bed just yet." The petite brunette hustled over to the bed and carefully eased her down, taking care to avoid unnecessary pressure on her aching right shoulder.

"What happened?" Joss reluctantly allowed the woman to fuss over her, but she wanted answers. "Where am I?"

"You're at New York Presbyterian Hospital in the ICU; and from what I understand you got into quite a fight with a suspect last night." The young woman scrutinized the bandage swaddling her shoulder before introducing herself. "I'm Beth, your nurse, by the way."

Joss gave her a distracted nod as she continued to check her IV levels and vital signs. "_A_ _fight with a suspect last night?"_ That couldn't be right. If her memories of the previous day were correct, there was no suspect, and the victim's apartment had been crawling with uniformed officers, detectives, and CSU techs - too many for anyone to sneak past. Her questions didn't help the headache pounding through her temples, in fact they seemed to make it worse. Maybe Fusco or Terney would drop by soon and fill in the gaps for her.

Joss waved away Beth's offer of pain medications. She could stand it for now, and she needed a clear head is she was going to piece together what had happened the night before.

"Since you're up, let's go ahead and get some breakfast for you."

Food was the last thing Joss wanted, but she read the underlying determination in the woman's chipper façade. At her consenting nod Beth grinned and hurried into the hallway, leaving Joss alone with her thoughts once more.

The reprieve was short-lived when seconds later Beth wheeled in a cart with several trays. "Look who I found wandering the halls." She stepped aside to let her baby boy into the room.

"Mom!" Taylor cried and hurried to envelop her in a hug with an enthusiasm he had not displayed in years.

"Taylor," Joss choked out, not caring if he was squeezing her a bit too hard. She was relieved he was there, and a little embarrassed to have him see her in this condition. Joss never wanted her son to face the deadly realities of her job; but she had little choice in the matter now.

"Jocelyn?" She had been so relieved to see Taylor, she did not notice her mother or Fusco shuffle into the room behind him. Joss met her mother's anxious gaze over Taylor's head and smiled.

"I'm ok mom, I promise." Joss had no way of knowing that, but her mom seemed to need the reassurance at the moment.

"I'll leave this here," Beth cautiously placed the breakfast tray on small bedside table. "Try to eat as much as you can." She shared a conspiratorial look with Sofia before turning back to address Joss. "Dr. Pearson will be in later this morning for rounds."

"Thank you Beth," the nurse backed out of the room, making notes in a manila folder.

Taylor eased out of her embrace and made room for his grandmother. "You scared twenty years off my life Jocelyn Marie," her mom whispered in her ear.

"I'm sorry mama, I didn't mean to worry you." Her mom would worry regardless, but she didn't want this close call to add to that burden. "I'm going to be just fine," she guaranteed again for her mom's sake and her own.

This was not supposed to happen. Joss was well aware of the high likelihood of being injured in the line of duty one day; but she did everything within her power to minimize her risks. Sofia Daniels was a strong woman, who had spent thirty years worrying about her husband every time he went to work. Joss didn't want to put her mom through that again.

Sofia brushed away the tears on her daughter's cheek with a wink. "I know you will baby girl." Her mother drew back to lift the lid on her first meal in what felt like ages.

Taylor pulled up a chair next to the bed and Joss swore he was eyeing her tray with interest. From the looks of it - plain oatmeal, butter-less toast, and a small carton of orange juice - he could have it, she'd take her chances with lunch.

Fusco finally approached, but instead of wearing his usual frown he sported an apprehensive expression. He laid a hesitant hand on the bed rail, and she got the feeling he wanted to touch her but was afraid to.

"You know Carter, if you wanted a new partner, you coulda just told me." Fusco probably meant for the words to come out as teasing, but the gravelly tone of voice underscored his concern.

Joss bit her lip, unsure of how she could explain the situation to her partner - especially with her mother and son only a few feet away. She could barely recall how the events of last night unfolded, breaking it down for Lionel was looking like a monumental task.

"Fusco, it's not like that." She wanted to say more, but blessedly he seemed to understand that it wasn't the right time. Joss gave his hand a clumsy squeeze before her mom drew the table across the bed, silently admonishing her to eat.

Sofia and Taylor helped raise the head of the bed to a comfortable level while Fusco stepped over to the corner window and pulled out his phone, piquing Joss' interest. _"Who is he texting?" _

She had taken one bite of oatmeal, mulling over the creamy cardboard taste yet savoring the warmth against her raw throat, when her mother snuck in a question that tilted her already unbalanced world.

"How long have you been working for Mr. Finch?"

Her ribs burned from the fit of coughing that overtook her. _"What the hell?" _The look on her face probably would have been hilarious at another time and place, but not now as she accepted the napkin her mom calmly extended to her.

She accepted and shot quick glances at Taylor and Fusco for - what? Help? Confirmation of what her mom actually knew? Neither man would look her in the eye and seemed to find the faux wood floor and the view out the window more interesting.

"_Cowards," _she thought, acknowledging that she would have done the same thing if the situation were reversed. _"Thank God Beth unhooked my heart monitor before she left." _ The last thing her mom needed was more ammunition.

Joss took her time wiping the remains of her first bite of breakfast from her chin, her hospital gown, and the table in front of her to collect her thoughts. How did her mom know about Finch? Did that mean he - and John - were here last night as well? She wasn't sure what to make of that possibility….yet they must have for her mom to even mention them, or Finch rather.

How was she supposed to lie to her mom when she had no idea what cover story was in play? She was on her own on this one. Joss was not above using the convenient headache card to buy her some more time, and planned to do just that when she snagged Fusco's gaze. He discretely tapped the gold badge clipped to the waist of his wrinkled brown slacks then turned back to his phone.

What, they met at work? She hated charades. Joss crumpled her soggy napkin with a sigh and eyeballed her bland breakfast one last time before meeting her mom's inquisitive stare.

"There's not much to tell really." Sofia merely nodded, content to give her enough rope to hang herself with. "We met during a case about a year or two ago I think." Joss reached for her orange juice, wincing as the liquid stung her throat. Did they have to do this now?

Apparently they did.

"He owns several security firms in the Tri-State area and we've worked together on a few high-profile cases." That scrap should satisfy her for now, right?

"You must have made quite an impression on him to have him pay for all of this." Her mom waved a slender hand to encompass her and the private hospital room, then reached out with a new napkin to catch a clump of oatmeal dangling on her chin.

"Thanks mom," she mumbled, while taking in the fact that 'no muss, no fuss' Finch had paid the bill for her hospital stay. She wouldn't be able to repay him in a thousand years, not that he would ever let her attempt it. He had a fit when she tried to buy his $5.00 cup of tea the other day.

Sofia was still waiting for an answer, but Joss didn't have one for her right now. Every joint in her body ached, a bongo player was giving a solo performance in her head, she was exhausted after being awake for less than twenty minutes, and she honestly did not know what had spurred Finch in to such an act of generosity.

Sure there were a handful of times the pair of detectives had been on the receiving end of Harold's benevolence. He had filled the gap more than once when they city's computers fouled up their paychecks, delivered gifts - anonymously of course - on their birthdays, and catered holiday dinners for them at their homes. But this - she didn't have words for it at the moment. Taylor picked up on her confusion and jumped in with an idea of his own.

"Grandma, we'd better head out or I'll be late for school….unless Mom lets me skip classes today?" He cornered her with a hopeful smile and waggling eyebrows.

"_That's my baby boy," _she chuckled as she sent him her best 'mom' look. "I don't think so son, you've worked too hard studying for that geometry test not to take it."

Taylor grumbled and groaned as he stood to sneak a bite of her cold toast before leaning in for another hug. "Besides I'm sure I'll still be here when you get out of school," Joss gripped his shoulders to keep him close a moment longer. "And I want to hear all about that test later."

She felt him nod, but barely heard his "I love you mom."

"I love you too T. Go make me proud." Her cheeks ached from keeping her grin in place, but it was worth it when she saw his earlier fear fading. The teenager brought his fist down to lightly bump hers then backed away to let his grandmother say goodbye.

Sofia gave her a quick peck on the cheek and promised to come back later in the morning with a few essential items from her apartment. She moved towards the door, but not before issuing a stern warning to finish her breakfast. Joss made a face and turned to Fusco, expecting him to leave with her family. She was startled when an older black gentleman in a dark suit met them in the hallway and ushered them away.

Before she could even organize her question Fusco beat her to the punch. "Glasses hired some bodyguards for the time being'."

Bodyguards? What in the world happened? Joss didn't get a chance to voice those questions before Fusco jumped in with a few of his own.

"You workin' a case I don't know about Carter?" At her confused look he continued. "We were done for the week. What were you doing at Terney's crime scene?"

Joss remembered all too well what drove her back to work that evening. _"Damn, why couldn't I have forgotten __**that**__." _Fusco would likely be sympathetic, but there was no way on earth she was sharing those details with him. No need to create a rift in the team.

"Terney needed help, and I was available," she hedged.

Over the last year of their partnership Joss had learned to read her partner like a book, and the same could be said of Fusco. One look at his deepening scowl and she knew his BS meter was spinning, but he thankfully moved on to his next question.

"Since when do you volunteer to play evidence mule and give everybody the night off?"

"_Evidence mule?" _Her head hurt too much to try to figure out his colorful expressions this morning. Fusco meant well, but things were so upside down now, she was running out of patience. Joss clutched the soft blanket in her fists and let a frustrated tear slide unchecked down her face. "I don't know Fusco. I've been trying to remember since I woke up, but -"

"Hey Carter, don't worry about it." He slouched into Taylor's vacated chair. "Let's start with what you do know."

Joss agreed and closed her eyes to concentrate on finding the hidden memories. "I was at the station, catching up on extra paperwork when Terney and Reyes caught a case. He needed a hand, so I tagged along." She sniffled and opened her eyes to give Fusco a weary smile. "I owed him for helping us out with the dog walker case a few weeks ago."

Lionel chuckled as the same picture in Joss' mind ran through his. Terney had taken one for the team quite literally, getting bit by a ferocious toy poodle for his troubles. "Yeah I guess you did."

Without thinking she raised her right hand to push her full plate away, but she quickly dropped it with a gasp as burning spasms knifed through her shoulder. Her partner noticed, but chose not to say anything, just moved the table out of the way and waited for her to continue.

"They were assigned the murder of that socialite, Miranda Chamberlin. She was attending Bank Street College, working on completing their Master's program**.** She lived in a quiet brownstone in Morningside Heights."

"Yeah it's front page news this morning. Mom's some European supermodel, and dad is an international trade lawyer."

That fact wasn't a surprise. "We made the scene, uniforms had already canvassed for witnesses and secured the perimeter so I started processing evidence found in the bedroom." Images of a white sand coastline and the promise to take some time off came to mind. There would be plenty of time for that now, but it would have to be a beach stocked with virgin bikini martinis and sexy male nurses rather than cabana boys. Fusco cleared his throat, dragging her back to the present.

"I needed to get something from Terney. I called him back, but," she squinted to try to get the details exactly right. "There was a noise from the other room - the living room maybe?" Fusco noted her statement in his pocket notepad then looked at her expectantly.

"After that, it's pretty fuzzy. There was another noise, but when I went to check it out the power went out, from the storm I'm guessing." Joss shook her head, then sighed to cover the pain her movement caused. "That's all that I remember."

Fusco's brow furrowed while he jotted down a few more things before glancing up at her. "That's a start Carter. We'll fill in the blanks as we go." Joss didn't believe him, but kept that to herself.

"Terney's official reports tells a slightly different story."

"_Great, so even what I do remember is wrong?"_ Joss gestured impatiently for Fusco to continue. "And?" At least now she would get a clearer picture of what happened.

"He said you sent everyone back to the lab and volunteered to secure the scene and bring back the last of the evidence." Fusco's beady eyed stare roamed across her face as if looking for a sign to prove his words true or false. "His theory is that the victim's boyfriend came back to clean up after himself after he saw everyone leaving. Terney thinks he took you by surprise."

"No that's…that's not right? Is it?" Her intuition, still sluggish from the meds, roused at those assumptions. Had they found evidence she didn't know about, something that suggested the victim had a boyfriend?

"A rookie interviewed a nosy neighbor who swears he's seen a man coming and going from Ms. Chamberlin's apartment for the last several weeks. He's with a sketch artist now to hopefully get an ID." Her partner shrugged as skeptical of the outcome as she was.

"What else is in Terney's report? Does it say how I got this?" Joss touched the protective padding wrapped around her shoulder.

"Look, it's all speculation right now Carter. No one knows anything for sure since we haven't caught the guy yet, and you're in no shape to talk."

Well, she wouldn't be of much help in that regard since the last ten hours were as clear as mud. "Out with it Fusco."

"Based on your injuries and statements from the first responders, it looks like you were not going down without a fight. Prince Charming there got in a few good punches, before trying to strangle you." Fusco shifted in his chair and diverted his eyes to study the pastoral print on the opposite wall. "Somewhere in the struggle you two exchanged shots and he clobbered you across the forehead with his gun."

Wow. That explained a lot; but didn't do anything stir her memory or encourage her version of the truth to come out of hiding. She was about to ask some questions of her own; but Fusco wasn't finished.

"The uh, the guy might have also tried to sexually assault you as well Carter." The tips of his ears turned a warm shade of red, but he finally looked at her. "I thought you should know."

"_What the hell?" _How was it possible to forget something like an attempted rape? Joss didn't bother to hide the shudder of revulsion that ran through her. _"That man better pray another cop finds him before I do." _

"All of the results came back negative though," Fusco rushed on to add. "Dr. Pearson didn't want to take any chances given your state of undress when you were brought in."

"State of undress?" Okay, she needed to talk to the doctor about getting her discharge paperwork in order so she could get out of here. Joss gripped the pale rose-colored linens and shoved them down her body with her left hand.

"Hold on champ, take it easy." Fusco popped out of his chair and drew the blanket back over her. "Every cop in the city is out there looking for your attacker, there's no need to break a hip trying to get back out there to catch him."

"Easy for you to say." Joss griped, reaching the end of her rope with her partner, the pain, the whole damn situation.

"Look, I know you want to get this guy. I do too; but let someone else do the heavy lifting on this one Carter." Fusco clumsily pulled the covers back over her and stepped away from the bed.

Fine, he might have a point, but if she couldn't go to the scene Fusco was going to bring the scene to her. "I need to see Terney's report, crime scene photos, evidence logs, the -"

"Can't."

"Can't?" She fixed him with an argumentative stare, ready to badger him until he gave in.

"Can't." Fusco repeated. His uncooperative attitude grated on her already raw nerves. Her mother probably browbeat him into this.

"I'm just going to look -"

"Carter you can't because almost all the evidence was destroyed in the fire." He stuffed his hands into his pants pockets. "Everything you collected from the victim's bedroom, your phone, gun, camera, all of it. I was there last night with a new CSU team, but it doesn't look like there is anything that can be salvaged."

"_This is insane!" _Not to mention a little dizzying to take in all at once. "All of it?"

"The lab boys brought back what they collected from the kitchen and the living room; but all the samples you took from the bedroom - where the murder took place - was lost." Joss slumped against the cushions behind her with a sigh. Her attacker must have panicked or wanted to make certain his crimes died with her and set the apartment on fire. How in the world had she made it out alive?

A wild surge of hope flickered to life and she couldn't stop herself from thinking about John Reese. Had he gotten there in time and carried her to safety? It had to be him, what other explanation was there?

Joss felt a warmth envelop her that chased away the chill that had hung around since she woke up alone and hurting. Despite the distance and silence of the last couple of months, John was paying attention and truly cared. She voiced her question to Fusco before she lost her nerve.

"Who got me out of there?"

The deep, clear voice that answered was definitely not her partner's.

"That would be me Detective."

* * *

"_That would be me Detective."_

"_Who the hell is this guy?" _John's eyes snapped to the phone lying on the dashboard as though he had audio and visual surveillance. That was not the answer or the voice he was expecting. He shifted his focus back to the ramshackle cabin in front of him, but his attention was split between his assignment and the new developments back in NYC.

John had rescued their tiny number earlier this morning; but during the operation the nanny and an unidentified male accomplice had escaped. After he returned the little boy to his frantic parents, John tracked the couple to this remote log house in Harriman State Park, and spent the last two hours in his car surveying and planning his next move. They couldn't hide out in there forever, but he didn't want to storm in to an unknown situation.

Shortly after sunup he grew restless, replaying the events of the last 12 hours in his head over and over, particularly his conversation with Joss. It wasn't the most appropriate thing to dwell on, but it had been foremost in his mind since the words left her mouth. This stake out was giving him plenty of time to think and examine his own feelings for the stubborn detective; but he found that he was just as confused now as he had been last night.

On a whim he had decided to tune in to Fusco's phone, hoping he could catch up on the latest of the investigation into her attack. He was relieved to hear Joss ' voice on the other end, awake and lucid yet full of frustration and anxiety. John could also detect the pain she was working hard to conceal from her friends and family. She had likely waived off any pain medication offered to her, and that had him worried.

She sounded so scared and vulnerable, he was ready to abandon his stake out and rush back to the hospital to wrap her in a bear hug. The memory loss from her concussion was obviously a concern for her, and John couldn't fault her for that. He knew from personal experience that the unknown could drive you crazy.

Inevitably she asked the one question he had hoped to avoid; but he knew he would have to face sooner or later. _"Who got me out of there?"_

John reached out to disconnect the call, not wanting to hear the disappointment in Joss' voice when Lionel told her the truth - that he had let her down, left her to face a dangerous situation - when this new visitor stopped him.

"_Adam Orsini, NYFD." _John heard the man introduce himself to the two detectives before he addressed what must be a confused Jocelyn Carter. _"No one told you?"_

"_No one told me either," _John thought sourly before chastising himself for his attitude. He owed this man a debt he could never repay, without him Joss would have died in that fire. He should be thanking the man instead of sulking about not being the one to save her.

"_My unit got the call shortly after the fire broke out. Our station is right around the corner and we were first on the scene; but by the time we arrived the building was almost engulfed." _John closed his eyes, but was not successful in blocking out the dire picture the firefighter's words were painting. _"We got word someone was still inside, so the Captain sent me in for a quick look." _

"And of course you were just in time to save the day." His anger was irrational, ridiculous, and most certainly uncalled for; but that was much easier to focus on than the fear that still smothered him when he recalled how close he came to losing her.

"_The smoke was thick and I was about to turn around when I saw you lying on the bedroom floor. I scooped you up and carried you out just before the ceiling gave way."_

"Let's not get carried away," John sneered at his phone, feeling the man was bragging about his rescue efforts a tad too much. "I've done the same thing before." But not when it counted, when his best friend needed him the most, his guilty conscience quickly reminded him..

"_Today is my day off and I wanted to check on you before I head out of the city on business." _ John could picture the man leering at Joss like she was Little Red Riding Hood to his Big Bad Wolf._ "And I must say that you look much better than the last time I saw you." _

That earned him an eye roll from Reese, but a breathless _"thank you"_from Carter. He made a mental note to have Harold ask the doctor to re-examine her lungs and make sure there was no damage from the bruised ribs. After all she wasn't falling for this guy's weak line was she?

No, not his Joss. She would be appropriately grateful to him for saving her life, as she should be, but that was all. In her line of work she witnessed heroic acts every day, hell she was a hero in her own right. This firefighter would learn soon enough that she wasn't a hose honey.

Besides she was in love with him, so it wasn't likely this new guy would turn her head. Joss was a one man kind of woman, passionate and faithful to the man in her life. Right now she considered that to be him, and John was flattered, really, but he couldn't let her waste her love on something that could never be. Perhaps after they dealt with their relationship and got back to more familiar ground he would encourage her to check Adam out.

Maybe, but there was no reason to push things he counseled himself, tamping down the irritation pricking his heart at the idea.

He stretched his legs and shifted around behind the steering wheel, the muscles in his back locking up. Thank God this miserable assignment was almost over. The wet snow and freezing temperatures were doing little to improve his dark mood.

John heard Fusco make his excuses to Joss, promising to drop in later, but he wasn't quite ready for the portly detective to leave. Carter's personal cell phone was destroyed and they had not had an opportunity to buy her a new one yet. Lionel was the only connection he had to Joss at the moment since her burner phone was still at the precinct. Since Adam Orsini was staying so was Fusco, whether he liked it or not. Before the man could make his escape John called to redirect him.

"Fusco." He answered on the second ring.

"Lionel, where do you think you're going?"

"I need to get back to work. Did you need something?" John noted the tension in the other man's voice. He also picked up on the sound of feminine laughter in the background and was curious about what had brought that on.

"I need you to stay with Carter and find out what you can about this Adam Orsini character." They needed to run a full background check on this man in case he tried to get too close to Joss - to protect their team and their mission.

"Who, Mr. June, July, and August?" Fusco asked.

What the hell did that mean. "What?"

"By popular demand, the fire department gave our hero in there three pages in their 2013 calendar - the three hottest months of the year, June, July, and August - because he's so…well hot."

How in the world did Fusco know that tidbit of information? He didn't have time to go down that road at the moment. "We just need to be extra vigilant right now, until we have a line on the attacker."

"Well that's who I've been chasing all night, but I can tell you for sure it aint Carter's new love interest."

"_Love interest? Why would he think that?" _Reese was puzzled by Fusco's observations, but hesitated to give them too much credence.

"I've got a meeting with one of the building's residents in thirty minutes." he continued. "I need to head out if I'm going to make it in time."

"Then leave your phone there Lionel." His husky request was really more a command.

"Sorry I can't do that."

"Just lay it down on the nightstand and walk away." Now was not the time for the detective to go toe to toe with him. "I'll get you a new one if that's what you're worried about." His demand was met with the drone of a dial tone.

He should be plotting his revenge, redialing his asset to bully him into getting his way, but instead John shook his head with a grim smile of pride. "Well done Lionel, well done."

There was no time left to brood over that situation anyway. His quarry walked out of the cabin just then, lugging two large suitcases and chattering on about their sunny destination south of the border.

"_Show time,"_ John thought, shoving opinions on Joss and her new hero as far back in his mind as he could. His anger and ill-humor tagged along though as he slammed the car door and made a beeline towards the two amateur kidnappers.

* * *

With some difficulty Joss forced herself to stop gawking at her visitor when Fusco walked back in from the hallway. He seemed to be flustered, glaring at his phone before shoving it in the inside pocket of his sport coat. She had a hunch who the caller was. Only Harold and John could rattle her partner like that.

She didn't even bother to say anything, just speared him with a stone faced look that always netted her results. Joss wasn't sure what she expected him to say in front of Adam; but she sensed something was going and did not want to be left out.

"My ex-wife," he huffed, dodging her gaze. "Calling to bust my balls as usual. You know how that is." He turned to address his last comment to Adam, probably hoping for a bit of manly commiseration.

"No can't say that I do," Adam's shook his head with sympathetic shrug of his shoulders. "Never been married."

Joss found that unbelievable. The man was insanely gorgeous, and now that she had the chance to observe him up close and personal she completely understood why he was given the summer months in the 2013 FD calendar.

"I've got to head out Carter," Fusco was saying. "Adam, it was nice to meet you and, uh, thanks for taking care of my partner here." He extended his hand to the man with a genuine air of gratitude that warmed Joss' heart.

"Of course," Adam nodded as he accepted the offered hand. He stepped away from the bed to give them some privacy when Fusco shuffled forward.

"I've got some errands to run, but I'll be back later this afternoon. If you promise to follow doctor's orders and get some rest I'll fill you in on what I find out."

That wasn't much of an offer, but she reluctantly agreed, knowing it was the best she could do for now. Joss was not happy at being sidelined during this investigation, but she consoled herself with the fact that this was only temporary. Once she got out of the hospital she could take on a more active role

She cocked her head slightly to consider her colleague, wondering when he had last stopped to eat, sleep, or even catch his breath. Fusco looked exhausted in his wrinkled suit from the day before and a slight five o'clock shadow lining his face. Joss wouldn't have believed he was capable of such loyalty a year ago, in fact she had been exceedingly leery of the man when they were initially paired together. Lionel Fusco had proven himself to be a valuable partner and friend in the months that followed.

Joss had put off examining their relationship too closely, content to sit back and wait for him to fulfill her expectations by screwing up or betraying her like so many others had. The old sourpuss had done just the opposite though, and the time had come to cut him some slack. There was an unspoken acknowledgement of the tentative trust between them, but after last night, she needed to verbalize her appreciation.

Joss recalled a conversation they had outside that bodega while working Ronny Middleton's murder. He had asked her a question then that had her bristling and building her walls; but her response to him now would tear those down.

"Lionel?"

"Yeah Carter?" He paused and turned back to face her.

"My friends call me Joss." She was secretly pleased that she had succeeded in shocking the crotchety detective. He recovered smoothly, a toothy grin splitting his face as he nodded.

"See ya later Joss." He lifted a hand to Adam once more, then walked out.

Joss took her time in the silence that followed in her partner's wake to appreciate the magnificent hunk of a man who rescued her.

Adam Orsini was tall, at least 6'3", and built like a bear with muscles piled on top of muscles. He had a head full of short black hair with ridiculous body and devil-may-care curls that left her fingers itching to run through it just once. His eyes, a light sea green in color, sparkled with vitality and humor**.** They were captivating, and framed by lengthy black lashes that would make any woman jealous.

The man had the chiseled face of an ancient warrior, with sculpted cheekbones and a square jaw line that appeared to be made of granite. The faint crookedness of his nose did not detract from his good looks in any way, but rather teased of a hidden bad boy underneath - which contradicted his angelic smile that was focused on her at the moment.

Heaven help her, this man could give John Reese a run for his money any day of the week! "_Wait, what?"_ That must be the concussion talking. There was no comparing these two men. She had met Adam all of five minutes ago and John was being downgraded to a friend, co-worker really. Apples and oranges. Extremely attractive apples and oranges.

If his discrete cough and raised brows were any indication, the silence had stretched a little too long and she had been caught staring. Joss scrambled for something to say before starting with the most obvious, but the most heartfelt. "Thank you seems so inadequate after what you did for me."

"All in a day's work Detective, but it was my pleasure." Of course he would have straight white teeth to go along with his charming smile.

"Besides," he hurried to add, "What would you boys - and girls - in blue do without us firefighters there to rescue you?"

Joss chuckled good-naturedly, but refused to take the bait. "I'd hate to find out Mr. Orsini."

"It's Adam, please. Mr. Orsini is my father, and my older brothers," he held a hand to his chest in an imploring manner. "And I hope I've earned the right to call you Joss?"

This time Joss was the one feeling a heated blush blossom across her cheeks. "Yes, saving my life entitles you to call me by my first name."

"Excellent," Adam flashed another dazzling smile her way, then glanced down at his watch, cringing when he noticed the time. "I hate to cut this short, Joss, but I need to head out." He made no move to leave, but continued to stand near the foot of the bed studying her with a curious expression.

"You know, my parents have a small restaurant and souvenir shop out on Coney Island. Perhaps you've heard of it - Sal's Seaside Shack?"

"Heard of it?" she asked in disbelief. "Are you kidding? I practically lived off their Bicerin back in college, not to mention the Fortuna Fries and Chocolate Diples when I was pregnant with my son."

"Those are some of my favorites too," Adam laughed, and Joss found the resonant baritone sound exceedingly pleasant. "Well, I'm on my way out there now. The place got hit pretty hard by Sandy a few months ago, so my siblings and I are meeting up to help mom and dad clean up."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Joss was truly saddened by the news. She had fond memories of the quaint restaurant - early morning coffee runs, spring break and summer vacations, the homecoming celebration after her final deployment, field trips with Taylor's class. The food was a inspired mixture of Greek and Italian cuisine with many traditional dishes and eclectic new creations. And the older couple who owned the business, obviously Adam's parents, were always kind and welcoming. "I haven't been able to get out to the island in a while. My job keeps me pretty tied up." "_And if I do have any free time my second job swallows that up."_

"We are almost ready to re-open for the season, you and your uh, family should stop by again if you're ever in the area. First responders and military personnel get a 15% discount and a free zeppole - the Italian version of the doughnut," he explained at her wondering look.

"I'll be sure to stop in with my son." She held back her laugh as Adam's dimples deepened. "I just hope your parents will have enough food on hand. Taylor is going through another growth spurt and is eating me out of house and home." Joss couldn't recall the last time she had been out to Coney Island, much less stopped in at Sal's.

"I look forward to it. And don't worry, my mother makes enough food every day to feed a small army so we've got you covered." He reached out to grip her free hand in both of his. "Take care of yourself Joss."

"You do the same Adam." Joss returned and reached for the glass of water on her nightstand to take a slow sip while she watched him leave. She needed to reconsider her vacations plans. Coney Island wasn't exactly uninhabited, but it definitely had the right kind of cabana boys.

**Later that evening**

The hospital should have installed a revolving door in her room to accommodate all the visitors who paraded in throughout the day. Joss was thankful Beth had finally agreed to prop her door open. The clear view of the hallway made her feel a little less isolated and trapped.

Not that she would be going anywhere tonight. Joss took one last bite of the lukewarm chicken noodle soup before pushing her tray away and slumping against her pillows in exhaustion. It had been such a busy day, she couldn't have followed the doctor's orders if she tried. She really had attempted to get more sleep, but each time she closed her eyes there was a knock and another well-meaning friend or medical staff.

After Adam left, Dr. Pearson had stopped by for morning rounds. The pint-sized woman was pleased - amazed was the exact word she used - at her progress. She cautioned that there was a long road to recovery ahead for Joss; but with physical therapy, hard work, and patience she would be able to return to active duty in time.

Dr. Pearson had been a little more cautions about her head injury, suspecting they were dealing with a mild concussion. She ordered a neurological evaluation with an MRI as a precaution. The memory loss, she told Joss while patting her hand, was normal, but should resolve itself in time. Before she left Dr. Pearson made a point to stress that relaxation and rest were part of her prescription. That was easier said than done. Joss was hungry to get back to work and personally catch the man behind this. She had declined the offer of a pain reliever, but promised to ask for one if she needed to.

Not five minutes later Finch dropped in with a colorful bouquet of fresh flowers - from both John and himself - and a new cell phone, completely programmed with every bit of information her old one had.

He stayed just long enough to give Joss the chance to thank him for all he had done. He had bashfully accepted, but his discomfort was obvious. If she didn't think he would be insulted, she would have offered to pay him back. As it stood now she would be chasing down numbers from her nursing home before she wouldn't feel indebted to him.

Joss was eager to talk about the case, but Harold would not cooperate and deflected her questions. When he realized that tactic wouldn't work forever he changed the subject and blindsided her with a comment about John stopping by after he wrapped up his business that afternoon.

Well that had shut her up, and took some of the wind out of her proverbial sails. What was there to say to John after all these weeks? After what she witnessed last night? Finch seemed to sense the impact of his words and quietly excused himself soon after that to leave her wondering what 'business' John was out tending to.

"_I'm sure Zoe broke a heel,"_ she couldn't stop the catty thought, _"and John had to carry her across the city to her appointments today."_

She didn't get the chance to examine that further since the neurologist swept in to bombard her with questions. Once he was satisfied with her answers she was whisked away to spend the next thirty minutes fighting back her rising terror at being entombed in the MRI machine.

When she returned to her room her mom was waiting for her with a bag full of items from home. Beth joined the party then and helped Joss change into her favorite pair of pajamas after a quick sponge bath. The nurse also unhooked the maze of tubing and wires, changed her bandages and replaced the wrapping around her head with a simple square of gauze and tape over the wound.

Sofia stayed with her and plaited her hair in a soft braid that curled over her shoulder. Before they even had a chance to talk much, another round of guests - Detectives Reyes, La Blanca, Szymanski and Kane - swung by with Captain Womack to wish her well. She had hoped Terney would make an appearance; but his partner explained that he was combing through the evidence determined to catch the punk responsible. Her co-workers encouraged her to rest while they worked around the clock to find her attacker.

Joss was fed up with people telling her to rest, relax, take it easy. That was hard for her to do under normal circumstances. The next person to use those four letter words would not like her response.

Not long after her colleague left, Thomas popped in with Taylor who filled her in on his day, including the dramatic story of how he aced his geometry test. Her family left soon after her dinner arrived, and that's where she found herself now with no appetite and thinking about John.

She was angry with Finch for getting her hopes up, but more infuriated with herself for still waiting for John in the first place. The man had made it more than clear that he did not care for her as anything more than an asset. The sooner she learned that the better off she would be, only now she didn't have work to provide her with a distraction.

Joss looked at the nearly full bowl of soup and debated on taking a few more bites. She certainly was not hungry, but she didn't want to hear another lecture on her food intake from well-intentioned nurses and mothers. Sighing she decided to take her chances and grabbed the remote instead to find a movie to fall asleep to.

Squeaky footsteps in the doorway pulled her attention away from the television and Joss inhaled a breath both prepared and not ready to face the man checking in with the guards in the hallway.

"Joss." No. No. No, that was the last voice she wanted to hear. "I came as soon as I found out."

* * *

John felt human again as he stepped out of his apartment in a dark teal polo and fresh pair of jeans, to head to his car. It was later than he had intended, but there was still time to make it to the hospital to check on Joss.

The kidnappers were now in jail - after a brief trip to the hospital for broken bones - so he could now devote his full attention to Joss' case.

Fusco had called earlier to brief him on the promising leads he had chased down after his interview with the brownstone resident. Lionel was also meeting with another CI later tonight and would report back afterwards. If the information was solid John would follow-up personally and give Fusco the night off. If not he planned to spend time with Joss, and clear the air between them.

That thought alone made his palms break out in a nervous sweat.

"It won't work Joss," Reese practiced his speech on the empty passenger seat as he drove. _No, that didn't sound quite right_.

"It's not you, it's me." _Nah, too contrived_.

"You're a beautiful woman Carter." _Nope, that would not end well for him._

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he slipped into the parking garage. This was her fault really. Her words had haunted him all day. Whether he was comforting a frightened preschooler or kneecapping the people who took him, her "I love you" kept rolling around in his mind.

John felt that he had a responsibility to come up with a response that would let her down easily and keep their delicate friendship intact. He just needed the right opening. Joss was a woman he cared for and respected; and while he would admit they did not share a sibling type of love, he was certain he was not capable of giving the love she wanted and deserved…and withoutadoubtshe deserved better than casual sex or one night stands.

No, it was settled: yes he was physically attracted to her and aware of how beautiful she is; but he is too broken. He had nothing to offer her and she had too much to lose. That was how it had to be, and Joss would see the logic behind his reasoning now that the anesthesia had worn off.

He strolled onto her floor, comfortable with his plan, and waved to Glenda as she rolled a patient in a wheelchair past him. Reaching Joss' room he checked in with the bodyguards and relieved them so they could take a dinner break. John hung back for a moment, surprised to hear Cal Beecher's voice coming from inside.

"I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner Joss. I was stuck working an undercover detail last night, and I didn't find out until roll call tonight." Reese rolled his eyes at the excuse, wanting nothing more than to bust in and drag Cal outside for a man to man conversation. He would be nice for Carter's sake; but Beecher was walking a very fine line.

John perched on Brett's vacated chair and unfolded the newspaper, pretending to read while he eavesdropped. Joss' voice barely carried over a page for operating room staff, but John could tell she was less than thrilled when she told Cal he shouldn't have bothered.

"It's no trouble Joss; and I promise you I'll be here for you. I'm here to stay while you're in the hospital, and even after you get home."

"I don't think so Beecher," John murmured**.** '18 carat Cal' had occupied a spot on his to-do list for some time now, and he planned to cross him off - soon.

"I don't think so Beecher," the weak but firm echo from Joss took him by surprise.

"Joss I thought we were past this." Cal's tone turned frosty, less loving and more put out with Carter's defensive walls.

"We are past it Beecher," Joss sounded tired. "We're past it and we are done."

John was proud of Joss and couldn't keep the arrogant smirk off his face. She deserved better than Beecher, this breakup was painful but for the best. And it had nothing to do with any jealousy on his part.

"Joss, you don't mean that."

"I do Beecher. With all that has happened I don't know who you are anymore, I can't trust you."

"I'm the same man I was twenty-four hours ago, the one you planned on bringing home to meet your son."

John wasn't aware of that development and the revelation caused his smile to falter. Carter was serious enough about Cal she planned to introduce him to Taylor? How did he not know about that? What else didn't he know?

"You're not being reasonable Joss," the rejected man continued when she didn't respond. "You didn't even give me a chance to explain."

"What is there to explain Cal? IAB doesn't investigate a cop for no reason."

"There's more to the story, just give me a chance." Joss must have shaken her head no, which prompted Beecher to propose a new theory. "You need me Joss."

"I need you?" The woman snorted at his assertion but played along. "How do you figure I need you?"

"You'll need help around the house while you're recovering. And I can protect you, if you'll let me. "

Reese lowered the newspaper at what sounded like a threat in Beecher's answer.

"Thanks for the offer, but uh I can take care of myself. I don't need you or anyone else." Her voice cracked, and she took a moment to clear her throat. "Now I think it's time for you to leave."

"Joss, think about what you're saying. Don't make a decision now that you'll regret later."

"Get out!" she yelled, and John dropped his pretense altogether, heading for Carter's room spoiling for a fight.

"Joss, baby -"

" Don't call me that." she muttered through clenched teeth.

"Fine, Carter then! Lay back down before you hurt yourself anymore."

Oh yeah John was itching to scratch this name off his list. Tonight.

"Just leave Beecher. Now!"

"Ok, ok, I'm going. But I'll be back Carter. We've got a good thing here and I don't give up easily on what I want."

Cal backed through the door as Reese approached, shaking his head and raising his arms in disgust. "Watch it man," he snarled when John bumped into him.

Cal walked away and John moved to follow when he hesitated. He wanted nothing more than to herd the man into a dark corner of the parking garage and deliver a warning of his own with his fists; but that would leave Joss alone, unguarded. John watched Cal slip around the corner, mumbling to himself and unaware of the danger he narrowly avoided.

A sharp clatter from her room sent him running the few steps back to her door, his eyes scanning for the threat. The remains of her dinner lay splattered on the floor, and Joss was leaning heavily against the overbed table near the window, knees trembling.

"Joss," he cried as he rushed to catch her before her knees gave way completely. "What are you doing out of bed woman?"

"Checking out the scenery," she grumbled. "Where did you come from?"

John adjusted his hold and stood for a moment with Carter in his arms until he felt her relax against him, laying her head on his chest, her left arm feather light around his waist. He permitted himself a second to touch her, revel in the feel of her heart beating against him, reassuring him that she was going to get better.

The keen pleasure he felt at holding her in his arms was somewhat alarming, but not completely unexpected. He was genuinely relieved to see her again, gruff attitude and all. Couple that with his fear Joss would push him away and it was easy to see why he wanted to hold her close for a few more minutes. She might not let him come near her again if his speech was not as well received as he hoped it would be.

John lowered his lips to buss the top of her head, taking note of the clean, soapy scent that replaced the bitter smoke from before. His hands rubbed the tight muscles of her back in an effort to calm her, however her pajama top had ridden up during her excursion to the window, leaving her lower back exposed.

When his hands came into contact with the heated bare skin, a flush of desire spread outward from his chest that he was powerless to stop, inappropriate as it was. John knew he should put her back in bed, but he was too caught up in the sensation; and if her contented sigh was any indication, Joss was enjoying it too.

" - bed John?" Her low voice filtered through and his reply left his mouth before he could reconsider it.

"Trying to seduce me into your hospital bed Detective? Kinky, but to each his own." He pulled back to add his signature smirk**,** but lost his swagger as he watched her reaction steal across her elfin face. Her eyes widened as a delicate rose colored her cheeks, and he swore he saw the tiniest of smiles tilt her lips before she frowned and stuttered a reply.

"L-let me go J-John."

As usual, he chose not to listen, but bent at the knees and gingerly scooped her up to carry her the short distance back to her bed. It was only a few feet, but it might as well have been a few miles with the difficulties he encountered. He easily ignored her protests to put her down, but it was not as simple to ignore the fullness of her breasts as her pale pink top stretched taut across them and his fingertips brushed their sides. Joss' left arm automatically draped itself across his shoulders and her breath scraped his collar-bone while her forehead pressed against his jaw line.

If he turned his head even a fraction of an inch he would be able to taste her lips. Just once, to put the idea to rest and get him out of this weird funk. His neck muscles relaxed to let his head drop and do just that when his brain caught up with a sharp reprimand.

"_God, what is wrong with me?" _Joss had been through a terrifying ordeal and all he could think about was kissing her for his own peace of mind?

He smoothly placed her on the bed and set about pulling the covers up her toned legs before he gave himself the chance to ogle them. John fussed over her bandages and sling, assuring himself she had not pulled anything loose.

"I'm fine John," she raised her hands to push his away. "You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"

John knew he deserved her anger, that he should be joining Cal out in the parking lot; but he didn't want that. Joss had been so happy to see him last night, he had not anticipated this response.

"I told you I would be here Carter."

Wrinkles of confusion marred her forehead and she turned away from him, muttering something about a two month absence and keeping promises. John didn't understand what she was talking about. He was here last night - she even saw him damn it - and he had come back as soon as he was able.

Joss seemed happier to see Adam this morning than she was to see him now. The cold burn in his stomach stirred up doubts about how inclined she would be to offer him a second chance now. He mentally slipped his mask in place before she turned back to him; but he was not quick enough to prevent her from catching a glimpse of the sting her words left .

"I'm sorry John," she released a sigh and brought her hand up to her temple. "I'm still a little out of sorts; but you didn't deserve that." She locked her bright gaze on him again. "I didn't mean -"

"It's understandable Joss," he brushed aside her apology as he sat near her bed and quelled the urge to take her hand in his. Did his eagerness to change the subject make him a coward? Probably so, but he did not want to give her the chance to send him packing for good.

It had been some time since John was this close to Carter. The last two months felt more like two years apart, as his eyes took in the changes in his friend. Her skin lacked most of its usual warmth and luster, but there was a delicate radiance there. Her eyes still held that mischievous sparkle that had the power to comfort him and kept him on his toes. Her ebony hair had grown a couple of inches, and John found he really liked how she looked with that glossy braid curving against her throat. If things were different between them he would not hesitate to reach over to tug on it and tease her about her new school girl style.

His eyes zeroed in on the fingertip bruises partially hidden behind her hair and the relief fled, reminding him of why he had stepped back into her life.

Joss shifted uneasily against her pillow and pulled the covers a little higher to deflect his stare. He hadn't meant to make her feel uncomfortable. "How are you feeling?" he asked, trying to set her at ease.

"I'm a little sore, but other than that I'm fine. I'm sure I'll be out of here by tomorrow." At his pointed look she relented a little and confessed to not being able to recall anything about her attack.

"What do you mean?" John had heard her version of events when Fusco had questioned her earlier. He hoped walking through it with him now would jog her memory.

"I remember being at the scene, cataloguing evidence when the power went out. After that there's nothing, just a blank void." She tried to blink back tears, but only succeeded in splashing them down her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she choked out**, **"I know that won't help."

John reached over to squeeze her hand this time. "You have nothing to apologize for Joss. In fact I'm the one who needs to ask for forgiveness**."** He had both dreaded and anticipated this moment all day. "I wasn't there when you needed me the most. You almost lost everything because I -" He was ashamed to say anything more. Just like with Jessica he was too careless, too late and another woman he cared for paid the price for his mistakes. "I am so sorry Joss. If you want me to leave…" John let his words trail off intentionally, not wanting to give her the option of sending him away. If she asked him to go he would. He would watch over her from the shadows and protect her; but he would respect her wishes and keep his distance.

"John." She used the same tone that she had the first day they met, one that got to him every time. A mix of sympathy and clemency delivered in her low dulcet voice. He knew Joss wanted him to look at her, but he couldn't meet her eyes**. **He felt so raw, vulnerable, more so than he did in that interrogation room at Riker's prison. If he looked at her she would see too much. Joss would never use his openness against him, but he wasn't ready to share that part of himself with her yet.

John hoped she knew he was sorry for more just than his inaction last night. He was trying to convey how remorseful he was for his behavior the past two months, how he handled their relationship after Riker's and the run-in with Kara. The words were there, but kept getting jammed up somewhere between his heart and his throat; but he knew she understood.

Joss had an uncanny ability to read him, better than anyone else, even Jess. That assessment didn't feel disloyal to her memory like it had in the past, it was just acknowledging the truth. Carter's empathy was part of what drew him to her in the beginning.

"John," she tried again, shaking their joined hands and dragging them up her body as though hoping his eyes would naturally follow. It worked and a smile was waiting for him in her tired brown eyes.

He had done nothing to earn her mercy or forgiveness. Oh he wanted it, but he didn't deserve it; and when she discovered where he really was last night she would be quick to recant her feelings for him. The thought of losing her affection and a place in her heart brought on a sense of fear he tried to shove aside.

"Don't." she whispered while working her hand free from his. John's heart picked up speed, bracing for the worst. But instead of pointing to the door, she reached out to wipe away a tear he hadn't realized was slipping down his cheek.

"Don't beat yourself up over this." Her fingertips lingered, brushing against the stubble on his cheek a second longer before she lowered it to rest on the bed.

"I should have been there Joss. If I had -"

"You had no way of knowing. This could have happened at any crime scene at any time." she reasoned.

"It would not have happened if I was there. I would have protected you." He would have laid down his own life for hers if that was what it took.

"John, you have a life to live, and so do I." Joss moved to angle her body away from his.

Why did her words sound so final, as though she was about to tell him it was time they go their separate ways?

"I don't expect you to watch over me every minute of the day." she continued. "There are other people in this city who need you too."

"I won't leave you." Which was a stupid thing to say. He had just offered to leave if she wanted him to; and last night was proof he had left her completely vulnerable and alone**.** "Please don't ask that of me." He hated the pleading note in his voice, but he couldn't let pride stand in his way.

"No, I'm not asking you to leave John," Joss hesitated, her eyes scanning his face for answers, working out a problem in her mind. "I want you to stay."

She wanted him to stay. Her gift of mercy washed over him and he took a minute to bask in the warmth**.** John wasn't foolish enough to believe this was the end of the matter, the worry plainly evident in Carter's eyes told him as much; but he would take the reprieve for now.

"We're going to get this guy Joss." his voice was hoarse, humbled by the fragile trust she placed in him. "Can you remember any little detail that might identify him?"

"No," her disappointment bled through. "I've gone over and over what happened after the lights went out, but there's nothing until…" she fisted the covers for a second. "until I woke up this morning."

John was confident he knew when most people were lying, and Jocelyn Carter was no exception. Her large doe eyes, wrinkled brow, and lower lip caught between her teeth told him she was telling the truth. Joss honestly had no recollection of her assault. And if she couldn't remember anything until this morning, did that mean she didn't remember sharing her feelings with him either?

That would go a long way in explaining why she wasn't acting awkward or reserved around him as he imagined she would. But maybe she thought he felt the same way and was waiting for him to say 'I love you' back. Or maybe…he was over thinking this whole thing. The best thing to do is just ask her straight out and face the problem head on.

He had his speech all ready, he could do this. Funny thing was, the words he had rehearsed on the drive over had deserted him. This never happened to him, not even when he was staring death in the face. How did one tiny woman manage to disorient him with nothing more than three little words? Snow and Stanton would die laughing if they could see him now.

"Joss, about last night -" He wasn't sure where he was going with this, but it was out there now.

"John, we've been through this, you have nothing to be sorry for." He would always regret that night, but he wouldn't tell her that or she would be nagging him forever.

"No, I mean after that when we talked -"

"W-we didn't talk to each other last night." Was that panic or confusion he heard in her voice? "In fact we haven't spoken in months." No, that was anger.

"I, I came by last night with Harold." _"And you said you loved me." _John didn't want to blurt it out, but Joss was not making this easy on him.

"You did?" Joss sounded startled, like his being there was inconceivable. He didn't have a right to be, but he was insulted. "I'm sorry," she continued, I don't remember that." She didn't, John was certain.

"I was knocked out from the anesthesia, didn't wake up until this morning. I must have been great company." she finished with a distracted chuckle.

"_Well hell,"_ he swore. That made perfect sense. She was under the influence of some powerful medications and had been through a traumatic experience so naturally she wouldn't recall what she said in a moment of weakness. She most likely didn't even mean what she said so he was off the hook.

He should be ecstatic, relieved, elated. Now they wouldn't have to navigate those tricky waters or have one more obstacle in the way of getting their friendship back on track. He should be laughing this off and filing it away to tell her at a later time. He wasn't.

That conversation forced him to look at pieces of himself he had locked away years ago, and now it was all for nothing? Life would go on business as usual for Joss, yet he was stuck with disconcerting emotions, noticing things about his friend that he never would have before.

Twenty four hours ago he would not have paid attention to the subtle rise and fall of her breasts when she took a breath, or the way wisps of hair escaped her loose braid to cling to her graceful neck. He wouldn't have wanted to brush them back to feel her silken skin for himself.

He had not been aware of the cupid's bow shape of her full lips, and he positively wouldn't have wasted an hour wondering what they tasted like.

The burden this knowledge came with had him feeling like a pervert, as though he had preyed on her when she was the most vulnerable and learned a secret she obviously meant to keep.

So now what? Did he tell her what she revealed and then let her down gently? Sit back and let it go? Neither option seemed like a smart choice.

He needed to think about this more before his next move. Their friendship hung in the balance and that meant too much to him to throw away on an impulse**.**

Putting that on the back-burner for now, John shrugged off her last comment and pursued another line of questioning that had chafed at him since he received word of her attack.

"Why were you there last night Joss?" _"Instead at home with Taylor where you would have been safe?"_

"Terney needed help and I was available."

_Liar._ John took in the hospital blanket, wrinkled by her fidgeting fingers. Joss could bluff her way through a lot of situations, but she was a terrible liar. He was familiar with her tells, and they were on display now. But why did she feel the need to hide the truth about her reason for being at the crime scene last night? Everything about the case so far pointed to a simple homicide investigation gone wrong.

"Detective Carter?" a nurse knocked on the outside wall before stepping fully into the room. "It's time to take some pain medication." She stopped short when she noticed the dinner tray and it's contents decorating the floor. "Didn't like your soup I see."

"Sorry," Reese paused to look at her ID badge, "Veronica. We had a little mishap earlier." He hopped up to grab some paper towels from the private bathroom and sopped up the forgotten mess as best he could.

Joss flashed her an apologetic smile that slipped into a childish pout when the nurse set two paper cups on the nightstand. John turned back to wipe up the last few spots and hide his laughter. She reminded him of a three year old being sent to bed while the party was still going on. She clearly did not want to take the offered medication, but reluctantly did so, probably out of respect for Dr. Pearson. He considered asking Finch put him through medical school. It would be worth the time and money to get Joss to listen and obey him too. When she made a face after swallowing the two pills John didn't bother hiding his amusement from her.

Veronica ran through her routine and accepted the sodden tray Reese handed her before wishing them both a good night.

"You're not a very good patient are you?" He couldn't help teasing Joss after he washed his hands and reclaimed his seat.

" I am a delightful patient thank you very much." She harrumphed for good measure and drew a deep breath. "I just disagree with her assessment."

"You need to take your medicine Carter, you already refused them three times today." John knew Joss was of the same mindset as him, and would rather tough out the pain if possible; but he couldn't stand to watch her hurting. If she had refused further he would have used every means at his disposal to coerce her into taking them.

"How do you -?" she narrowed her eyes and shook her head. "I shoulda known. You got eyes and ears everywhere." Joss wasn't exactly upset, but she didn't seem happy being under his surveillance either.

"We're just making sure you're taking care of yourself. Rest and following the doctor's orders are key for your recovery."

"Oh that's rich! This from the man who got a nasty cut from the business end of a knife and waited three hours before asking me - a woman with minimal medical training - to stitch him up."

"This is more of a 'do as I say, not as I do' situation Carter."

"I'm a grown woman John," Boy was he beginning to see that. "I can make my own decisions."

"Of course you can, but there's no shame in taking something for the pain."

"Any more pearls of wisdom, o wise one?"

"Not at the moment, but keep a pen and paper handy so you can write them down."

Her disbelieving look was ruined when she giggled, the sound doing weird things to his heart.

John leaned in to help her adjust her pillows, the drowsiness already sabotaging her efforts to get comfortable. It wouldn't be much longer and she would be out like a light, which was good, she needed sleep; but he didn't want to leave just yet.

"I don't like the way I feel afterwards, so out of control and loopy. Then I wake up groggy with no memory of the last twelve hours." He couldn't argue with her there.

"I'm having enough trouble in that area already." She smiled but the humor fizzled before reaching her eyes.

John folded his hands in his lap to keep from reaching for her again. His new-found touchy feely side was puzzling, not to mention a big tip-off. He settled on using his words to encourage her instead. "Don't worry about that Joss, you will in time."

She was not as convinced, but nodded slightly and turned her attention to the late local news reporter. John too twisted in his seat to watch the bundled up correspondent comment on the road conditions and snowfall; but his thoughts were far from the precipitation outside.

Was that what last night was all about? A lowering of inhibitions brought on by anesthesia that influenced her to come clean about her feelings for him? Regardless of how it happened, she apparently had no clue that he had even been there last night, much less that she had said 'I love you'.

So now he was back to his original dilemma: what to do now? Telling her wouldn't do any good, and John couldn't risk scaring her away. He certainly couldn't un-hear the words or forget that she said them. No, forgetting wasn't an option, not when every little thing about her caught his attention.

Her breathy yawn brought him out of his jumbled introspection, and he turned to find her eyes heavy with sleep.

"You should get some rest Joss," he said quietly standing to leave. He could hear Brett and Ryan in the hallway, returning from their dinner break.

"Stay?" The lethargy had cleared and her left hand snagged his.

John hesitated at her request. A large part of him longed to stay with her, soak in her forgiveness and watch over her as only he could. But the responsible and distant John Reese recognized there was work to be done. Fusco was still working the case, but he was running on fumes and needed some relief.

Joss picked up on his indecision. "No, I'm sorry. That was unfair of me to ask, you probably have other plans."

Even if he did have other plans, they would have taken a backseat. The fine tremble of her chin pricked at his conscience and he dropped her hand to grab the remote control.

He pulled his chair closer to the head of the bed and grinned saucily at her bashful smile**.** "Even Batman needs a night off now and then." he told her while he surfed through the channels to find them something to watch.

Six stations later, he found exactly what he was looking for, and stretched out against the faux leather to wait through the commercials for his program to start. Joss would love it, if she could stay awake long enough.

A bulky sigh filtered out as he examined the feelings that were pulling him in opposite directions: he has missed being with Joss, talking to her, teasing her, being included in her life. Staying away after their arrest had been difficult, it would be downright impossible now that they were physically near each other again. On the other hand he did not want to take advantage of her, or lead her on. He didn't want to encourage this love she felt for him, knowing he couldn't return it. Talk about a rock and a hard place.

A familiar theme song started and he scarcely caught Joss' "You remembered."

"Of course I remembered," his teasing eyebrow waggle was wasted on her when he saw her eyes drifting closed again.

Her mumbled reply was smothered by Lucy Ricardo begging her husband to give her a spot in his show. John stared at the tv again but the images on-screen didn't register. Instead he found himself reflecting about the simplicity of life back then - no Machine, no corrupt cops or unrelenting FBI agents, no bomb vests or deranged CIA partners. John was fairly shocked to discover he was jealous of those fictional characters. They had what he always wanted: a loving spouse, a child, loyal friends, stability, laughter, life.

With a rueful laugh at himself for mooning over what would never be, John glanced over to confirm Joss was fast asleep. It was past time to go, he needed to contact Fusco for a progress report.

John stretched to work the kinks out of his back and groaned. If Joss stayed much longer he would need to buy himself a better chair, a Lazy Boy. He'd never had the pleasure of lounging in one before, but this would give him the perfect excuse.

He tucked the covers carefully around her,and started when he heard her whisper, "Don't disappear on me again."

In spite of himself, John grinned and brushed his lips across her forehead. "Don't worry, you're stuck with me Joss." He drew back to watch her facial muscles relax into a peaceful slumber.

That promise should have rattled him, terrified him, but it didn't. John meant what he said and judging from the pleased smile on her face he had finally said the right thing.

John pushed an errant hair from her cheek, and allowing himself to caress the darkening bruise mottling her jaw line. The flaw on her otherwise perfect skin brought to life the rage he had held at bay while he was with Joss. Lionel better have a name for him tonight.

His thumb skimmed her cheek one last time then he turned the volume down on the TV and headed out.

Where he was going to go was still in question. John flipped out his phone to check his messages, paranoid rather than calmed by the quiet night.

So far there were no missed calls or messages from Finch or Fusco, just the voicemail Zoe left earlier. John knew better that to believe she had called to check on Carter out of the goodness of her heart. Zoe also extend an offer for a nightcap and a place to crash if he needed it. Reese checked the time on his watch, even while he knew she would answer his call regardless of the late hour.

He tabled that temptation for the time being and called Fusco for an update. The meeting was not productive though, and there was not much to be said. His CI gave him another name, one that could wait until tomorrow morning to check out. Reese made plans to meet him at their usual diner for breakfast to figure out their next move. For now the detective was driving home for food and sleep.

John knew he needed to do the same. Exhaustion was pulling on his coattails and slowing his reactions; but he was getting that restless sensation again. This time it had more to do with Joss and the perplexing feelings she had stirred up in him.

Maybe a drink and time with another woman would help him put it in perspective; or would it be weird being with Zoe again, after last night?

John dialed her number, doggedly ignoring the stab of - what, guilt, regret? He glanced over his shoulder at her peaceful form, inclined to stay with her until he needed to leave to meet Fusco in the morning. What if she woke up during the night and needed him?

Before he could move to reclaim his chair, Zoe's sultry voice answered**.** "John, I'm so glad you called."

Hanging up now would be rude, so he waved to the bodyguards and moved further down the hall. He couldn't help but suspect that he was headed in the wrong direction.

* * *

**A/N: This chapter took me a while to get just right, but I hope it was worth the wait :-D Thank you all for continuing to read and review my work, and for being so patient with me. Thank you also to my sister for graciously taking time out of her weekend to proofread this for me - love you! **

**I have a few ideas ready for chapter four, I hope to have it out soon. As always feel free to send me any suggestions or ideas of what you'd like to see happen.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I do not own Person of Interest or any characters you may recognize.**

* * *

"One more day with us and I don't see why you can't go home tomorrow."

A smile curved Joss' lips and she felt like dancing right there in her hospital bed as Dr. Pearson said the words she had waited four days to hear. "I can go home?"

"Tomorrow," she agreed. "As long as you agree to take it easy when you get there." The fixed stare over the rim of her hot pink glasses told Joss the physical therapist had tattled on her.

Well, she did overdo it a tad bit yesterday at her first session; but in her defense, getting out of bed and moving around had felt so good she couldn't help herself.

"Your sutures are healing nicely, the arteries we had to repair are not leaking, and I see no signs of infection." Dr. Pearson adjusted her glasses and folded the clipboard to her chest. "But I mean it Joss, you need to give yourself time to heal properly, here -" her bony finger snaked out to lightly tap her forehead then her heart "- and here."

Who knew her doctor was also a therapist? Joss took it in stride knowing her doctor cared and only had her best interest at heart.

"Work can wait," she continued. "In fact, Captain Womack told me he would fire you if you so much as set foot on NYPD property without my okay."

"_That's going a bit too far,"_ she protested to herself, but bobbed her head in agreement.

"Don't worry Dr. Pearson," her mom interjected. "I'll make sure she gets plenty of rest.

Joss smiled at Sofia, all the while willing her clenched jaw to relax before the constant pressure triggered another headache. She loved her mother dearly and couldn't have raised Taylor without her help; but the overprotective attitude - one she honestly understood - was beginning to chafe.

After all it wasn't like she was going to leave the hospital and go straight back to work. No, she would take the weekend off and wait until Taylor and her mom left for school and work on Monday morning. Once the coast was clear she could get dressed and stroll back into the precinct as if nothing had happened.

Her throbbing shoulder, the bruises scattered across her body and the tightness in her ribcage tried to remind her that something _had_ happened; but she couldn't afford to pay attention to that now.

The captain wouldn't really fire her - would he? He was so sincere and, dare she say it, sweet, during his visit earlier in the week. Fusco had accused the nurses of spiking her orange juice when she mentioned it to him that afternoon. Regardless of her boss' temper, Joss would risk it if it meant she could get back to work sooner.

Besides, she had one of the highest case closure ratings in her precinct. The man would be crazy to fire her, he had to be joking…except she had never witnessed the old grouch make a joke in all the years she'd worked for him.

The closest Womack had ever come to saying anything remotely nice to her was a brusque "almost had 'em Carter," when she nabbed one of two body builders who happened to be human traffickers on the side. The black eye she gained for her troubles didn't even earn her a pat on the back or a 'atta girl'.

"Jocelyn, if you're going to be discharged tomorrow I've got some work to do." her mom interrupted her woolgathering.

"Work?" What work could she possibly have to do?

"I need to get your apartment ready for your homecoming dear."

"Mom," she groaned. "Thank you, but you don't have to worry about that." Her humble abode wasn't spotless since her schedule left little time for more than basic chores; but it wasn't so dirty that it warranted heavy-duty cleaning.

"Taylor has eaten every last scrap of food you had in the place." Sofia continued, either not hearing or choosing to ignore her daughter's objections. "I need to run by the market, the drug store, get laundry started, change the sheets, vacuum…"

"Mom, it's okay," but as Joss watched the woman pick up her purse and jacket she knew it would be a waste of breath to try to convince her to stay. She accepted the kiss on her cheek then picked up her phone to text Fusco for her daily update.

"Mrs. Daniels," the deep voice filling the hallway had her setting the phone down on the tray beside her partly eaten chicken salad sandwich.

"Adam." Joss heard the giddiness in her mom's voice as she paused to chat with the firefighter.

Sofia had practically fallen in love with the man when she first laid eyes on him three days ago - in fact she fawned over him so much so Joss questioned if her mom was trying to make a match for her daughter or herself. "I'm so glad you're here. I've got to run some errands, but Jocelyn could use some company."

She hid her face in the freshly laundered blanket, resisting the urge to pull it completely over her head.

"She'll be going home tomorrow," Sofia added. "_Where is she headed with this?"_

"That's wonderful news." Joss could picture his broad grin accompanying those words. "I'm thrilled to hear that."

"Yes, we are all thankful, especially for what you did." The woman didn't even give him a chance to deflect her praise before plunging ahead. "We're planning a small celebration dinner for later this week once Jocelyn gets settled in."

"_Since when?"_

"And we would love for you to be there."

"_Mom!"_ Joss was embarrassed by her mom's maneuvering; but curious to hear Adam's response to the obvious set-up.

"I would be honored."

"_Honored. That's flattering right?"_

"Ok then, I'll make sure to let you know once we get the details firmed up." There was a pause for two heartbeats. "Jocelyn has your number?"

"I'll make sure she does," his rich baritone stirred up a confusing mix of emotions.

"_Yeah, definitely flattered."_ Joss knew Adam was interested in her, he engaged in flirty banter with her at every visit and did not hide his obvious efforts to check her out. The big question for Joss: was _she_ interested?

She had effectively broken up with Cal three days ago, although there was not much remorse behind that decision. Deep down Joss was confident she had sincerely tried to make the relationship work, but the truth was she did not feel anything more for Beecher than basic friendship.

Any semblance of a relationship they had created was destroyed when she learned about the internal affairs investigations. That news was difficult to hear from SAIC Moss, but she listened with a sense of relief. Joss knew she would sound like a cold-hearted bitch if anyone found out, but it gave her a reason to quit trying, to stop pretending she was in love with Cal. Coward that she was, she took it.

Cal wasn't an issue then, but what about John? Joss frowned at the thought of that blue-eyed complication. Their friendship didn't qualify as a romantic liaison, but in her heart it felt as though they had also broken up five nights ago at the Coronet. Now she was in the process of moving on, giving up on that dream and focusing on reality, the present - her son, her health, and closing out this case. Thank God John did not know how she felt - _had felt_ - about him.

Besides, Joss was certain that once she left the hospital John would disappear again, melt back into the shadows to live with that…that…trollop. A humorless snicker escaped her as she considered the wisdom behind encouraging any interest in Adam.

Her body was on board, instantly recalling how his t-shirt had clung to his chest during his last visit, hugging the ridges of each well-defined muscle. The deep purple color he wore was a fantastic compliment to his bright green eyes.

Her mind held camp on middle ground, voting to move slowly and give herself time, but stay open to new possibilities. Although it too enthusiastically recognized how handsome Adam was.

Her stubborn heart lagged behind, reluctantly acknowledging Adam's spectacular body and refreshing lighthearted temperament. However it steadfastly refused to entertain any notions beyond gratitude and friendship.

"Anyone home?" Speaking of spectacular…Adam rapped lightly on the door frame before entering with a familiar blue and white paper bag in his hand. Joss beamed at him as he drew near, curious about the treat he was bringing her today.

The day after his first visit, Adam surprised her when he came back with a bowlful of avgolemono soup - a mouth-watering mixture of chicken broth, eggs, lemon juice and spices. His mother had insisted he bring her some, he told her with a bashful grin, swearing it would have her back on her feet faster than any medicine her doctor could prescribe. The next day he brought in a plate of apple diples to get her opinion on the new recipe they were going to try at the re-opening. Yesterday was a small cup of Bicerin, since his father felt she had earned the right to enjoy a cup of her favorite coffee.

If the scents wafting towards her were any indication, this was the day she would get what she really wanted.

"Your mom told me the good news," he extended the sack to her only to pull it back just out of her reach. "But you don't look too happy for a person about to be paroled from her hospital bed."

Adam was perceptive, one of the many things she had learned about him over the last several days. Perceptive, playful, yet also bold in his actions and words. He said what was on his mind and Joss found the honesty refreshing compared to the guessing games she usually had to play with another man in her life.

"I'm ready to go home," Joss made a grab for the food, but he continued to hold it back, going so far as to laugh at her when she glowered at him. The man better be careful because she was starving and not above climbing over him to get what she wanted.

"Then what's the problem Joss?" She read the concern in his expression. He wasn't teasing, or asking out of politeness, he truly wanted to know.

"I want to go home and get back to work, not sit around for months on end waiting for a doctor to tell me what I already know," she confided.

Joss had given up on figuring out why it was so easy to open up to Adam. She felt safe with him, comfortable even. Plus there was the whole saving her from a burning building thing too.

"And what do you already know?" His tone suggested he had a good idea of what she would say.

"That I'm fit for duty." Adam's brows shot up and his eyes drifted to her shoulder. "Well fit enough sit at my desk and follow-up on leads as they come in. I'll even let Fusco make the arrests for now."

"Joss, I didn't save your cute butt from that fire so you could kill yourself going back to work too soon." His voice was firm, but tempered with understanding. "Give yourself time to heal." Adam set the to-go bag on the nightstand before touching her hand

Joss allowed the contact for a brief moment before extracting her hand to shyly tuck her hair behind her ear. "I can't wait on the sidelines doing nothing."

"Think of it as a vacation."

"Six months?"

"An extended vacation then woman." He laughed and in spite of her irritability Joss chuckled along with him.

"I can see you will need supervision Joss, and -" he tipped back in his chair and opened the sack to pull out a long, crispy slice of spicy potato goodness, "- bribery."

Adam leaned in to place the Fortuna Fry in her mouth, amused at her obvious enjoyment.

"Oh my," Joss closed her eyes to savor the taste before swallowing and holding out her hand for more. "These are better than I remember."

"Well there's more where that came from," he lightheartedly slapped her hand away. "If you promise to behave that is."

"There's always a catch," she muttered, drawing another deep laugh from Adam.

"You're just now learning that Jocelyn Marie? What a sheltered life you've led."

Oh no he did not just use her middle name! How did he find that out anyway? "Sheltered? Hardly! Now hand 'em over and no one will get hurt." Man, she really wanted another french fry…

"Are you going to be a good girl?"

"Oh I can be very good," she promised him with a husky undertone to her voice. _"God what am I doing?"_

"I have no doubt," he relented, passing her the food. "But I'm going to keep my eye on you anyway."

"Better keep both eyes on me mister," she warned him before carefully withdrawing an extra-large container overflowing with fries. "You didn't eat any on the way over did you?"

"No ma'am, I wouldn't dream of it; but I was told that you are supposed to share those with your mom and Taylor."

"I won't tell if you don't. Mmm-mmm." She moaned appreciatively as she popped another into her mouth. Joss rubbed off a sprinkling of spices from her thumb and greedily grabbed and third and fourth. "I don't suppose you would give me the recipe?" She would love to know how to make them, although she doubted she could ever recreate this masterpiece.

"I'll have you know that recipe is a family secret, passed down through generations of Orsini men and women." Adam leaned back in the chair, hands behind his head. "It's rumored that my great-great-great-great-great-grandmother made these for the first King of Italy and the pope."

Joss laughed out loud, ignoring the twinge in her side from her jostled ribs. In a different time and place, she could see herself falling head over heels for this charming firefighter. "You are making that up," she accused with a smile.

"I never lie about food Joss; but I could let you in on the secret, if you would agree to have dinner with me."

She paused with another potato wedge halfway to her mouth. _"Say what?"_ Dozens of answers came to mind, chief among them: _"Yes!", "Who me?", "What would John think?", _and _"Did Fusco put you up to this?"_

At her stunned silence an adorable flush inched up his neck. "You see, I don't get paid until next Friday and it's Appleby's turn to cook for the firehouse this week."

Watching him squirm was proving to be very entertaining, so Joss decided to say nothing and wait for him to explain further.

"Last time he made an enchilada casserole that turned the station into the heartburn hotel."

"So you've resorted to hawking secret family recipes for dates?" Honestly if she had to depend on the likes of Terney and Fusco to prepare her meals she might be forced to do the same thing. "Wait, I'd be paying?" That little detail almost slipped past her.

"Sure. Think of it as an opportunity to help another first responder in need and repay me for my heroic deeds the other night."

She found herself laughing out loud again, feeling light and carefree, sensations she had not experienced in some time. What harm could there be in saying yes just this once? Adam was a fine-looking man, funny, courteous, safe…and actually interested in her, plain old Jocelyn Carter, not as an asset, a convenient sidekick or a conquest he can brag about.

"When you put it that way, how can I refuse?"

"Well you could say no, but I'm hoping you won't." Joss was about to accept his terms when he added, "Did I mention that Appleby is a terrible cook?"

"I believe you did," she giggled. "So yes, I will take you out to dinner - on one condition."

"I'm all ears Joss," the lilt of his deep voice fascinated her. He angled his body closer to snag a fry while he waited.

"Did you bring the dipping sauces?"

"You mean these?" He reached for a smaller sack she had not seen on the nightstand and took out three transparent containers brimming with red, yellow, and white sauces. "What would our Fortuna fries be without them?"

Joss eagerly accepted the condiments, and disregarded her worries about what a friendship with this man might do to her waistline. They ate and debated restaurant choices for the next hour before Adam stood and reached into his back pocket.

"While I would love to stay and watch you inhale the rest of those fries, I'm back on duty this afternoon." He tugged a city issued business card out of his wallet and laid it on the table in front of her, his personal cell number scrawled across the top. "Call me when you're up for dinner."

Adam bent to press a chaste kiss against her cheek, lingering a few seconds longer than he did the day before. "I'll see you soon Joss," he guaranteed with a wink.

"See you soon," she echoed.

In the silence that followed his exit Joss released a pensive sigh. What had just happened?

She had a date with a gorgeous man that's what; but was she ready for it? She was just getting over another gorgeous man - well working on it - and she didn't want to lead Adam on or hurt him in any way.

As much as she tried to run away from it, the truth was she loved John Reese, wounds and all; but it was abundantly clear that they would never be more than friends or coworkers. She needed to move on, find a new path, and that's what Adam was offering her…but was she just using him? She really, _really_ liked him but…"For Pete's sake it is just a date girl, he didn't propose," she admonished under her breath.

Her thoughts and 'what-ifs' chased each other around and around in her head until she felt the urge to get up and move. A walk in the fresh air would help her organize the chaos in her mind, but that was probably out of the question so she settled for pacing in front of the ice edged windows.

Joss flipped back the linens and guardedly lowered her legs over the side. The dizziness that had haunted her the last few days did not make itself known. She ambled over to watch the light pedestrian traffic in the courtyard below. Everything was happening so fast - Cal and the FBI job, John and Zoe, the attack and her 'near-death-I-won't-think-about-it-yet' experience, Adam's entrance into her life, her memory loss, John's reappearance into her life.

Perhaps she was doubting herself because she was out of her comfort zone. Once she was home again, in her own bed, her own clothes, free to get on with her life, she would be able to evaluate the situation better. For now, she might as well put it out of her mind and run through the exercises her physical therapist taught her.

Joss gritted her teeth against the initial flash of pain to carefully raised her arm. Already it felt better than yesterday, the burning in her joint was more searing than blazing now.

"Hey champ, you ready to go ten rounds?"

"Fusco," Joss lowered her arm then turned to give her newest visitor her full attention. "What brings you by?"

Lionel looked happy to see her, but Joss sensed there was a more serious purpose for his visit. Like a break in the case. Detective Carter took center stage as her partner drew closer with a plain manila file folder in his hands.

"Look, uh, Joss why don't you sit down for a second." She allowed him to usher her back to the bed, where she perched on the edge as he handed her a 4x7 picture. "You recognize this guy?"

Joss zeroed in on the man staring back at her: white male, dark brown eyes, shoulder length brown hair pulled into a low ponytail, in his early twenties judging by his baby smooth skin. _"Was_ _this him?"_ She stared at the picture, willing her memory to cooperate; but there was nothing.

She shook her head and glanced up at her partner. "No, why?"

"That's Miranda Chamberlin's boyfriend, your suspected attacker - Alexander Wetherby."

Her eyes flew back to the photograph, scrutinizing each detail more carefully. This was her attacker? His blithe expression contradicted his brutal actions that night; but she had learned long ago not to judge a book by its cover. Relief was swift, but her gut was still churning. "You got him?"

"Not yet," Fusco shook his head. "Terney got this lead about an hour ago and he's keeping a tight lid on it. Doesn't want to risk spooking the guy before he can get a warrant put together."

"Makes sense." She needed a laptop and a phone to do some discrete digging of her own.

"Our mutual friends might beat him to it though."

So that's where Finch was today. Harold usually stopped by after breakfast and spent a portion of the morning with her, but today he was a no-show. Naturally her mind wondered about John when she thought about Harold. She didn't doubt he was out hunting down Mr. Wetherby, but she questioned what his intentions would be once he caught him. Would he let Fusco or Terney arrest him, or take matters into his own hands?

"I need to get back before anyone notices I'm gone Joss. I wanted to stop by and keep you in the loop on this one." Lionel eased the picture from her hands and moved to leave.

"Give me a minute and I'll be ready to go." Joss pushed off the bed and grabbed the suitcase her mom brought several days ago. Surely she packed more than pajamas and clean underwear.

"Go where Carter?"

"With you to track down Wetherby." Fusco should have known that she wouldn't be able to sit back and wait at the hospital once he showed her that picture. Why was he wasting time?

"Oh no, you're not going anywhere." he held up his hands as if he were going to physically put her back in bed.

Joss exhaled in frustration and rubbed her fingertips against her temple, careful not to disturb the small bandage there. She could walk, talk, and shoot left-handed if need be. There was no reason for her to stay here and lounge around in her nightgown.

"Fusco," Joss eyed her partner. "Dr. Pearson is sending me home tomorrow, I doubt she will mind releasing me a few hours early." Granted the doctor would be suspicious and likely make her wait until morning, but Joss was confident she could talk her into it.

"I have a feeling she would mind plenty; and it's not just her. Your mom and Captain Womack would nail my balls to the wall for even giving you this information."

"I'll tell them it was my idea, that you had nothing to do with it. They'll never know you were here." His damn stubbornness was giving her a headache.

"Right, who would believe that?" He rolled his eyes. "I hate to break it to ya Joss, but you're a terrible liar."

"_Terrible liar?"_ He didn't give her a chance to launch into her brewing tirade.

"Besides that nurse, Beth, that has the hots for me? She's already seen me, so like I said - not believable."

If she weren't so furious with him she would be doubled over in laughter. Beth most certainly did not have the hots for Lionel Fusco. She was happily married with two kids, and had only been staring at the detective because he bore a striking resemblance to a long-lost cousin on her father's side.

Joss knew her anger wouldn't get her what she wanted, so she decided to switch tactics and play up to his sympathies instead. "I can't sit here and do nothing, and neither could you."

"Look Carter I understand, really I do, and if it were up to me I'd let you go. But your doctor is right."

Great, he had that tone, the sympathetic one that told her his mind was made up and she would not be leaving with him this afternoon.

"Plus with my luck, something would happen to you and John would kill me. Slowly and painfully."

She wanted to question him further about John's reaction, but he kept talking. "So do me a favor and stay put huh? We've got a name and an ID, it will take a while to get the full picture."

When did Fusco become the voice of reason on their team? Damn if he wasn't right though. Even a basic search could take an hour or more to complete depending on the amount of data there was to wade through.

Joss lowered the suitcase lid and turned to hide her threatening tears. She wanted to get out there and help so badly her anxiety was morphing into desperation. Her family and friends were trying, but they didn't understand what was driving her, why she couldn't relax and let someone else handle her case. Hell she didn't really understand it herself.

Taylor chose that moment to burst in, excited about the upcoming weekend. Fusco took that opportunity to edge out the door, but not without a quiet promise of regular updates to Joss.

* * *

The empty coffee mug sailed across the room to crash into the library's brick wall and break into several large chunks. John turned back to the middle monitor to focus on their latest plan and not the irritation needling at him. Bear trotted over to the shards to investigate, licking up any drop of coffee he could reach.

He watched Harold walk through the metal detector and extend his arms out for the required pat down before moving to retrieve his belongings.

"_How could she agree to go out with that guy?"_ The question he had savagely shoved aside after eavesdropping on Joss earlier would not be held at bay any longer.

Did Carter really feel like she owed Adam a date for saving her life? Had she accepted his pathetic invitation out of guilt or misguided gratitude? John continued to be thankful Adam was there that night, but rescuing people in trouble - even police officers - was a part of his job…and if that's how Joss truly felt then she should be Mrs. John Reese by now after all the times he saved her backside.

That must be why she said yes, because Carter had known Adam all of four days and had just broken things off with Beecher. Joss always moved cautiously, and was never one to make rash decisions. She probably saw their dinner date as a way to express her appreciation and repay him in some small way.

John glanced over at the picture of Adam Orsini taped to their glass board. The background check had revealed nothing worrisome so far. No ghosts from his pasts or dangerous secrets had come to light, nothing that would pose a threat to Joss or their mission, not even a parking ticket.

_That man_, John's nickname for him now, had lived in New York City all of his life and came from a large, loving family. He was a decorated Marine, who had made a name for himself within the city's fire department over the last eighteen years. There were dozens of newspaper and magazine articles about his heroic actions, the various community charities he was involved in, and the preschool t-ball team he coached every year.

He couldn't have picked a more perfect man for Joss, Adam was certainly a better choice for her than Cal Beecher. That man was a fellow first responder who would understand the pressures of her job, and the demands on her time. He was dedicated to his family, loyal adventurous, and attractive - if one happened to like bulging muscles, square jaw lines and flashy white smiles - someone who would cherish Joss and spend his life making her happy.

John hated him.

Adam represented all the things John could never give Joss - the love, stability, and happy future she more than deserved. He raked a hand through his salt and pepper hair with a groan. Damn it, he had already decided he didn't want a relationship with Joss, couldn't have one even if he did. They were close friends, and would remain close even if she did get serious with another man someday…so why was this bothering him so much?

Because in a moment of vulnerability and complete honesty Joss said "I love you", words he knew did not come easy for her.

So now what? That man brings her some cheap french fries his mommy made and Joss forgets all about him? If she wanted the recipe so badly John would have no trouble getting it for her. Better yet he would have a chef from one of the restaurants Finch owned make a fresh batch for her every day.

"It's not like he's the only one who thought of that." John griped to Bear.

He kept track of her throughout the day when time allowed and knew she wasn't eating enough to keep a baby bird alive. He could never make it by before dinner, so he started smuggling in dessert for her.

The first night was a slice of strawberry rhubarb pie from the diner where they first met, then a loaf of blueberry zucchini bread from her favorite bakery. Last night was a piece of chocolate fudge cake from the small coffee shop they always stopped at after Taylor's games. Tonight he planned to grab some sweet lemon custard from the mom and pop deli near her house that she mentioned during a late night phone call several months ago.

John didn't want to put too much emphasis on the warmth he felt at her appreciation each night, but it felt good to be the reason for her smile for a change.

Bear padded over and dropped his head onto John's lap. He chuckled and indulged his four-legged friend with a generous scratch behind his ears while he watched the iron door on the monitor slide open. A shuffling off-screen preceded the man in the orange jumpsuit who sat down in front of Finch.

_Elias_

John disliked sending Harold out in the field alone, but he understood why he had to stay behind at the library today. It would be too risky, not to mention foolish, to go with him to Rikers for this meeting. The dark prison still evoked memories of his recent stay there, of the beating he took in the exercise yard, being trapped in that interrogation room with Joss. That tiny room was always where his nightmares took place.

He relived that grueling cross-examination again and again; but instead of the perfectly coordinated dance it had been in real life, it was a comedy of errors. He would slip up, get little details wrong here and there, and their game fell apart. The bad dreams ended the same way every time too, with Donnelly bursting in to drag Joss away from him. Her screams bounced off the concrete walls long after she disappeared down the dark corridor outside. In every instance, he is shackled to the table at the wrists and ankles completely impotent and unable to save her. He would strain against his bindings, wrestling with them until his skin was raw and bleeding, but he is never able to reach her in time.

The damn things felt so real some nights that John would wake up in a cold sweat dialing Joss' number just to hear her voice. He always talked himself out of it before putting in the last number.

"Harold it is a pleasure to see you of course; but I can't say it's unexpected this time." Elias lifted his hands to allow the guard enough room to remove his handcuffs. "I heard about what happened to Detective Carter. A tragic turn of events."

John tensed at the mention of Joss. Was Elias' sympathy genuine or manufactured?

"I had expected John would visit me this time," the mob boss grinned as though he anticipated John would step out of the shadows at any moment.

"Circumstances prevent Mr. Reese from visiting in person Mr. Elias, but he would like to speak with you."

Finch removed a black burner phone from his coat pocket and slid it past the chess board, the number pre-programmed.

Curious, Elias took the phone as a shrill ring disrupted the hushed air of the library.

"Hello Elias," John answered smoothly before the man could say anything, purposefully keeping his tone light and friendly. "How's prison treating you?" Well, if the extra pounds and carefree expression were any indication.

"Good to hear from you John." The grin broadened leaving his eyes almost fully closed behind his glasses. "As I'm sure you heard me tell Harold, I was saddened to hear about the attack on Detective Carter. I assume you're calling to ask if I was involved."

"Were you?" John could not keep the steely rasp out of his voice. He had warned Elias before that Joss was off-limits, outlining in great detail the consequences he would suffer if he so much as thought about harming her.

Perhaps Elias was feeling untouchable in his prison palace; but if he had anything to do with Joss' attempted murder no place on earth would be safe.

"A lesser man would be insulted John. I gave you my word that I would leave Jocelyn alone."

"Don't call her that," he ground out. He shouldn't have taken the bait, realizing Elias was only poking at him; but the sound of her name on his lips was revolting.

The smaller man let out a hearty chuckle. "I didn't know you cared so much John. What would Ms. Morgan think?" John flexed his free hand, tempted to punch the screen in front of him. "I'll tell you what, as a favor to my favorite crime fighting duo - and the captivating Detective Carter - I'll reach out to my associates and see what I can dig up."

John was aware of the high price attached to any help Elias offered, but if the information panned out he would gladly pay it. Elias didn't need to know that however.

"If I find out you had anything to do with this Elias I will kill you. Prison, your friends, _no one_ will be able to save you from me."

The mobster paled, but issued another nervous laugh. "Always nice to speak with you John. I'm sure I'll have the pleasure again soon."

Elias handed the phone back to Finch and started arranging the chess pieces across the board.

"For what it's worth Mr. Reese," Harold muttered into the phone, "I think he's telling the truth."

"As do I Finch." John was not really surprised. Their incarcerated number had not bothered Carter since he had delivered his message more than a year ago. Now, however, was not the time to trust Elias to keep his word.

John disconnected the call and stroked Bear's soft fur, the sleekness bringing a small amount of comfort as he sat back to contemplate his next move. So far they had struck out with the phantom boyfriend lead, but Finch was not through chasing down the identity of their mystery 911 caller.

There was also the HR angle to consider, but as of yet the group had not claimed responsibility. Fusco's pals from the corrupt organization were oddly silent about the matter, not acknowledging the attack either way.

The lack of any solid lead was wearing on all of them, especially Joss. Her inability to defend herself ate at her almost as much as her memory loss. Her frustration only served to increase his own fury that was already bubbling at barely controllable levels.

No matter what Finch, Fusco or Joss herself said, Reese knew she wouldn't be in this position if he had paid more attention that night. If he had, he would have been aware of her decision to help Terney and could have shadowed her at the crime scene then made sure she got home safely. Had he been there, he would have taken the man out before he had the opportunity to lay a finger on Joss.

Across the table his cell phone vibrated against the dark wood. "Please don't let that be Zoe," he groaned, but he knew by just the few digits he could see that it was. Bear's ears perked up as he sniffed the air with a low growl.

Reese huffed in irritation as he sent the call to voicemail. Their casual relationship was starting to feel less and less so.

The words 'clingy' and 'Zoe Morgan' didn't normally belong in the same sentence, but her behavior since their night together at the Coronet had him reconsidering. Zoe had called him every night since, sometimes to talk and check on Carter, other times to invite him over for drinks and "dessert".

Four nights ago he had reluctantly agreed to escort her to a party hosted by one of her clients, some old city councilman, or district attorney if he remembered correctly. Hell it could be for the President of the United States for all he knew. John had only said yes to make her happy and keep her from complaining about the party for the mayor he would be missing tonight. Zoe was less than pleased with his decision skip the event, but John had made it clear that he would be spending his evenings working the case or with Joss while she was in the hospital. That last time had been a mistake.

John's phone rang again and he was tempted to send it flying along the same path as his coffee cup. He wanted to ignore it and focus on Finch and Elias, but recognized the call could be important.

"There you are," Fusco's voice wobbled with urgency.

"_Oh God, did something happened to Joss?"_ Last night she had confided in him that her head was hurting a bit. "What's wrong Lionel?" Reese pushed the words out as he sat up straighter. "Joss -"

"Is fine, I promise. I just left her hospital room; but I need your help - well Finch's help since I've seen you try to operate a computer."

"What do you need?" John slid his SIG Sauer into its holster as he looked around for his black duffel bag. A computer wouldn't be necessary if Fusco was calling for the reason John thought.

"I overheard Reyes telling Terney about an anonymous voicemail he got last night. The caller claimed to know the name of the victim's boyfriend."

John paused mid-reach for his shotgun case. "Who?" Cold seeped into his heart as he waited for Lionel's answer. If the detective's suspicions proved correct, he would now know the name of the man who tried to kill Joss.

"Alexander Wetherby. Matches the neighbor's description to a tee."

"Where is Mr. Wetherby now?" John didn't recognize his own voice, filled with steel and deadly intent.

"That's where you and Glasses come in." Fusco lowered his voice, "I can't use a computer here in the precinct without it being traced back to me."

John clomped back to the workstation and shoved the mouse aside to bring the Machine to life. Finch had yet to formally train him on the technical aspects of the job, but he had seen enough to start a basic search.

He turned down the volume on Finch's chess game, and fed in Fusco's information under Bear's watchful eye.

A driver's license photo of a young man, likely no older than twenty-five, materialized before him. John concentrated on the picture, burning every detail into his memory. This was the bastard he would kill today, the one who had terrorized her and tried to take away his Joss.

John's mind had already located several soft spots on the man's body, weaknesses that he would exploit to wring out a confession and eventually a plea for death. "Thank you Lionel. I owe you one."

"Yeah, well do what you need to do quick. Terney's getting a search warrant and assault team put together right now. Find him before they do."

"Will do." John hung up and punched the keys he thought would yield an address for their suspect. The Machine spit out an error message, infuriating John and warranting a bark from Bear.

Twenty minutes later he was still without results and calling Finch for the third time when the man himself returned. "Detective Fusco texted me with the name."

Reese wordlessly vacated his chair and hunkered down next to Bear, noticing the snowy picture on the monitor he had muted earlier. Finch's fingers flew over the keyboard and had two addresses ready within seconds. One was in an upscale neighborhood in the city, the other a vacation home a couple of hours outside city limits.

"Do what you have to Mr. Reese." Harold said as he handed him a print out of the two locations.

John could only nod once at Harold, feeling himself slip back into his CIA assassin persona. He was reverting back to the monster he used to be. The one Stanton, Snow and Donnelly recognized as the real John Reese…the one Joss saw through.

He gathered the necessary supplies and left the library dialing Fusco's number for an update. He planned to take the son of a bitch to a remote safe house Finch owned for their little chat, but he didn't want the police interfering with the pick-up.

"Fusco," he answered, but before John could say a word Lionel muffled the phone and spoke to someone in the background. "It's my kid, I need to take this."

"Hey," Lionel said once he moved to a quieter area. "I got myself assigned to the task force,but don't bother coming to his home address, he aint here."

John heard Terney's voice approaching Fusco, cursing and yelling at his teammates. "Gotta go, we're getting ready to hit his house in Montauk." John altered his course as he hung up with Fusco, he refused to let this bastard escape.

Two hours later he pulled up in front of a modest country house that over looked the sandy dunes and white-capped waves. All of the lights were off, but that did not necessarily mean no one was home. John parked down the path, well out of sight of any incoming traffic.

He crept around to the back of the house and used his lock picking tools on the kitchen door. John slipped inside with a hand on his weapon, his senses alert and searching for any sign of life. About twenty feet past the kitchen he froze and silently unclipped his gun, listening again for the sound that tripped his alarm. Off to his right an ominous creak repeated in a warning that punctuated the frigid air.

"_Damn it!"_ John was all too familiar with that sound, but furiously prayed he was wrong this time.

He took off at a dead run for what was probably the living room, stopping when he came face to face with Alexander Wetherby, swinging from the end of a rope, his contorted face grotesquely highlighted by the light of the full moon.

"_Shit!"_ John used his gloved hand to feel for a pulse, cursing again when he found none. He was too fucking late again! Rage hemorrhaged from every pore of his body, and he raised a fist to hit something - the lifeless body dangling in front of him, the wall behind it, himself, he wasn't sure - when he noticed an odd marking under the edge of the rope that didn't belong.

John paused to examine the body, his instincts alerting him that something was not right. He paid careful attention to the knot in the rope and the bruising pattern. Was that a - down the hall a door slammed shut and footsteps ricocheted off the back porch's wooden planks.

He sprinted for the kitchen door, flinging it open in time to see a dark figure leap off the edge of the deck into the sand below. John followed the same path gripping his firearm tight. The person had already made it to the road and was disappearing into a nearby wooded area when red and blue LED lights flashed over the landscape. He didn't have time to worry about the police presence, his main priority was catching the man he was quickly gaining on.

The lone figure turned for half a second and fired a shot that hurled past John, scraping the skin of his torso. He felt the sizzle of pain before warm blood dribbled down his side as he returned fire. John continued running, disregarding the widening stitch under his ribs. His eyes scanned the darkened area for a clear shot, but it was no use. The man dove behind a clump of trees and emerged seconds later on a sleek black Ducati. He whizzed through the last few trees and into the clearing a few feet beyond.

John let loose a string of creative curses as he squinted to memorize every detail of the bike and its rider. Damn! He needed to get to his car. He might be able to catch up, but he needed to be in his car now.

The only thing that stood between him and the Audi was a small army of NYPD officers who were setting up a wide perimeter around the beach house. He could easily work his way past them, but he would lose precious time doubling back to the main road.

The throbbing ache in his right side would not be put off any longer, so John carefully peeled away his layers of clothing to look at the demanding wound. It was just a scratch, something he could take care of later after he figured out what the hell was going on.

He shucked off his coat and pressed it against himself to staunch the bleeding as he turned back to the bustling scene. A team decked out in tactical gear swarmed the house and kicked in the back door, their tense shouts quieting as they also found the body.

His phone vibrated with an incoming text: _My car, five minutes_.

John didn't have five minutes to spare, but he knew that his small window of opportunity to catch up with the motorcycle had already slammed shut. Now he needed to get back to the city, more importantly the hospital. There was more was going on here than a simple suicide, which meant the threat to Joss might not be over with Alexander Wetherby's death.

"Finch?" he spoke after taping his earpiece.

"Yes Mr. Reese?" Harold sounded alert yet cautious. "Is everything alright?"

John suppressed a groan as he mashed his suit coat more firmly against his side. "Alexander Wetherby is dead Finch." He heard the startled wheeze on the other end of the line and added. "But not by my hand."

"Does that mean -"

"I'm about to meet with Detective Fusco, so I'll call you when I'm on my way back to the city." John spied Fusco step out on the back porch and made his way around the perimeter. "I need you to increase security at the hospital until I get there. This isn't over."

"Consider it done John."

"Thanks." John ended the call as he approached the unmarked car, Lionel's voice carrying to him across the calm winter air: "Yeah, I've got some in the car."

Fusco plodded his way over, head down to avoid John's incisive gaze**.** He glanced left then right before delivering the bad news. "Terney and Reyes are ruling it a suicide."

John slammed his fist into the side panel, ignoring the pangs radiating up his arm to join in painful concert with the stitch in his side. This was definitely not a suicide, he was certain of that one thing if nothing else.

"What the hell happened to you?" Fusco asked, taking in the wadded up jacket and bloodstained shirt. "Wait, did you sting him up?"

"No, I had other plans for Mr. Wetherby. Unfortunately he was already dead when I got here; but someone else was in the house with him."

"So you think this was staged?"

"And the real killer is still out there."

Fusco's scowl deepened as he mulled over the implications. "There was a note left near the body confessing to Miranda Chamberlin's murder and the attack on Carter."

"It could have been written under duress." Reese countered. He thought back to the circular bruise he spotted near the victim's hairline. There had not been a chance to examine it more carefully, but it could have been made by someone pressing the muzzle of a gun there, forcing him to write the suicide letter. It fit with his theory. "I need you to stay with the body Fusco. I noticed several inconsistencies that might point to murder instead."

"Sure thing Boss. You want me to uh -"

"No, I'll tell her." He didn't want to tell Joss, but she deserved to hear this from him.

Bitter defeat choked him at the thought of the mess he made - their main suspect was dead, an unknown enemy was on the loose, and Joss was still in danger. Someone was going to a lot of trouble to tie up loose ends and likely saw her as just that. He needed to get back to New York.

"I'll tell her," he repeated distractedly, then thanked Lionel and hugged the shadows until he reached his own car.

John winced at the time glowing on the dash clock when he started the engine. It was late, well past his usual visiting hours, but he selfishly needed to see her.

He effortlessly bypassed the police barricades and slipped on to the main road while thinking about Joss. Had she already taken her medication and fallen asleep with only the late show for company? Part of him hoped that she was waiting up for him, trusting him to be there if it was at all possible.

Thirty miles outside the city he pulled in to a truck stop to take a few minutes to tend to his wound and change into a spare set of clothes. Back on the road he called Finch and filled him in on the situation.

His boss agreed the threat to Carter was still significant and started looking for a back door to the medical examiners computer system and camera network.

John finally made it to the custard shop and stood in line behind several customers. If Joss was waiting up for him he wouldn't disappoint her by showing up empty-handed. He jiggled his keys in his pocket while he waited his turn, ordering a pint of their sweet lemon custard and four coffees to go. Balancing the hot and cold load carefully he raced towards New York Presbyterian.

Out in the hallway he handed the coffee over to Ryan and Brett, then introduced himself to the new bodyguards Andy and Patrick. John had not met either man before, but he trusted Harold enough not to question the choice.

He walked the short distance to Joss' room, fidgeting with the two plastic spoons in his hand. She would be mad once he told her, hell he would probably have to tie her to the bed to keep her from driving out to Montauk herself. John opened the door, hoping the pain medications would do their job and help her rest tonight. Tomorrow would be soon enough to plan their next move.

John stopped short in the doorway, frozen with dread at the sight of her rumpled, empty bed.

* * *

John was late. She struck the punching bag with enough force to steal her breath and draw sharp protests from her inflamed shoulder.

Joss embraced the physical pain that was strangely comforting while it provided a blessed distraction from her inner turmoil, if only temporarily.

John was late. Another quick jab with her left fist sent the bag swinging. What did it matter if he was late? It wasn't as if she owned him or was in any way entitled to an explanation of his whereabouts.

Joss released a low moan as she attacked the black bag with another combination of punches. He was late and damn it she cared. She wanted to know where he was, even if it meant finding out he was with Zoe again.

This was all her fault really. She should have told him to hit the same bricks Cal did three days ago, but no, she invited him - flung the door wide open really - to stay.

She had just wanted to relieve him of the guilt he was feeling over the accident, to let him know it was ok to live his own life - even if that included Zoe and excluded her. She was trying to tell him it was ok that he was moving on, without mentioning what she saw at the Coronet. John had apparently taken that to mean she didn't want him around anymore, and maybe a small part of her didn't. It would definitely be easier for her to get over him if he wasn't around all the time.

The smart thing would have been to confirm those feelings and kick him out; but his remorseful look and the tears in his eyes touched her heart. She found that she couldn't send him away, his genuine emotions and protective embrace had weakened her resolve.

Joss stepped away from the equipment to catch her breath. It had not been her intention to break into the physical therapy room for a workout when she snuck past her guard dogs earlier. Finding the lights on and the door unlocked on her way to the chapel, she changed her plans.

She had grown restless waiting for John to drop in, and walking back and forth in front of the window while pretending to watch TV was not helping. Joss paced until she felt the walls closing in on her, and decided a short excursion was in order. She slipped out the door when Ryan turned his back to answer his phone and Brett was chatting with the single cardiologist making late night rounds. She would be back before they ever had the chance to miss her.

Joss adjusted her headphones as she stepped back up to the bag and lashed out with a right-handed strike and a kick when Leona Lewis' "Bleeding Love" filtered through.

"_God, why did I let him back into my life?"_ John had walked out on her months ago, but now, to assuage his guilty conscience, he decided it okay to shove his way back in?

She was doing fine without him…well getting there; and given enough time her life would settle back into her pre-John Reese routine: predictable, stable, safe…monotonous, stressful, hopeless.

Yet just because he was back in the picture now, didn't mean they would fall back into their old habits either. She still needed time - another punch - and distance - a quick follow-up jab then a strong kick - to get rid of these feelings.

Unfortunately that wouldn't be as easy to accomplish as it sounded. John was not acting like his old self either and the new Man in the Suit was hard to defend against.

He was acting differently alright - holding her hand, caressing her cheek, sitting by her bed for hours every night until she fell asleep and kissing her forehead. New John was bringing her dessert each night, and not just a stale piece of pie from the hospital's cafeteria, but some of her favorites from their old haunts. Last night he even fed her from his own fork, the moment both innocent and sensual - well for her at least.

When he used the pad of his thumb to wipe away the chocolate cake crumb stuck to her lower lip, Joss had been tempted to brush it with her tongue for a quick taste before blaming it on her pain medication.

She might as well blame the pain medications because they were also responsible for her thinking John Reese was checking her out the other night - which was laughable, impossible really. If he could see her now he definitely not spare her a second glance. Her hair was falling loosely down her back, curling like crazy after air drying from her first real shower in days. She was barefoot and wearing her favorite pair of dark grey sleep shorts and a plain emerald-green v-neck shirt. Who couldn't resist that?

Besides he had Zoe and all of her sophistication - Joss was satisfied with the harsh thump her wallop produced - what would he need with her?

Joss knew she was not his type, she was not a tall, willowy blonde with big boobs looking for prince charming to rescue her. She was a strong-willed woman with average features trying to fit into the male dominated world of law enforcement - the complete opposite of Jessica, which was probably what he was trying to recreate. Well good luck to Zoe on that. Joss couldn't measure up to John's picture perfect memories, and she certainly did not want to compete with a ghost.

Still, her mind insisted, there were several times she noticed him watching her with more than concern or friendship. In fact if Fusco or Finch ever looked at her the way John did sometimes…she broke off from that thought and sent the punching bag for a ride while she thought back to the first night when John saved her from falling face first on to the floor.

His lips had skimmed across her hair, while his hands soothed the aching muscles in her back. She would have had an easier time holding back the sun than keeping her pleasure filled sigh from escaping when his fingers stroked her exposed skin**.** They were warm and gentle, kneading along her lower back, leaving tingles in their wake.

The contact had left her flustered, which increased tenfold when John swept her up to carry her back to bed. She could have overlooked the incident if that was the end of it, but his fingers continued to brush against the fullness of her breasts with each step. The soft massage had her clenching her muscles to prevent herself from begging him for more.

Yes, those narcotics were powerful enough to account for all of those anomalies and were probably what had her imagining John was going to kiss her that night.

Joss growled and let loose one more volley that brought on flickers of light at the edges of her vision. John had probably tilted his head to tease her about staying in bed and he…what almost ran into her lips?

For crying out loud, this was ridiculous. John did not see her that way, he had made his mind up to move on from Jessica with Zoe…which was probably where he was tonight.

Thwack! Joss hissed in pain and hugged her arm to her chest. Damn John Reese; yet Joss knew she should be cursing herself. She was the one who fell in love with him even though she knew he was hung up on Jessica. She was even aware of something going on between John and Zoe well before she found them together at the hotel.

No, she knew all of that and fell for him anyway, so this was her fault. Her only consolation now was that he had no idea how she felt about him. If John ever found out that she loved him, he would vanish without giving her a chance to explain.

Why was this so hard? _"Oh, right, because I love him, wounds, mistakes and all." _

Well that was going to change. Joss would begin to heal and grow stronger physically, and while she did, her love for John would weaken and fade away. That was the plan at least.

The sadness that prospect brought on was intense. Joss raised her arm to channel her sorrow into one last haymaker, but could not get her limb to cooperate. The wooziness that she managed to keep on the fringes before, swept over her now, causing her to stumble to the bench seat near the mirrored wall. Her headphones and iPod tumbled to the floor as she dropped onto the seat.

Joss closed her eyes for a moment, willing the dizziness away. She needed to head back before Glenda or the boys noticed she was missing, and she would after a quick cool down. She inhaled deeply, ignoring the burning tightness wrapping around her ribcage.

"_That's it Joss."_ Another deep breath calmed her racing heart and cleared away a few of the sparkling fireflies. She just needed to rest here a few minutes more before she snuck back to her room.

Joss leaned her head against the cool glass, the chill dappling her skin with goose bumps. She opened her eyes to search for her fallen headphones, but yelped to find a man standing in front of her.

"I apologize," he spoke quietly with a stilted accent. Joss couldn't find her voice to assure him that it was fine.

"I came in to clean up." He motioned to the cart and cleaning supplies beside him. "I did not realize anyone was in here."

"No," Joss sat up straighter, unnerved by his sudden appearance for some reason. "I was just leaving actually."

There was something unsettling about this man, perhaps it was his cold grey eyes or the rough scar zig-zagging across his cheek. Those features combined with his shaved head, crooked nose, and sallow skin, made her body tense with apprehension**.**

This man was probably a saint, a kindergarten teacher with a night job to make ends meet; and her fear just a by-product of her recent attack. That may all be true, but she wanted to leave just the same.

"I'll get out of your way." Joss stood and swayed precariously on her feet. She took one step away from the bench when the room started spinning around her. Joss reached for the wall and felt the cool bricks scrape her palms before a hand clamped around her waist.

"Don't worry _sweetheart_," he rasped in her ear. "I've got you."

* * *

**A/N: Just a little cliffhanger to get the weekend started! Don't worry, chapter 5 is on paper, I just need to type it up and flesh it out before I post it. Thank you so much to everyone who continues to read, favorite, follow, and review this story! I can't tell you how grateful I am for your kind words and encouragement. A special thank you to stlouiegal for her idea that helped shape this chapter. Let me know if there are any suggestions or changes I can make to make the story better. I tried to be as accurate as possible with the medical aspects in the story, but I took a little creative license there. I apologize if I got any of the details wrong or if Carter's recovery seems too hurried or far fetched.**


	5. Chapter 5

**I do not own Person of Interest or any characters you may recognize.**

* * *

John's grip on the brown paper sack loosened and the melting custard dropped to the floor with barely a thud as he advanced into the room with panic nipping at his heels.

"_Where is she?"_ There were few, if any, places for her to hide.

Reese walked around the empty bed and surveyed his surroundings again. Joss' personal effects were strewn across almost every surface - her cell phone was charging on the nightstand next to a few magazines, the TV remote and their crossword puzzle. The worn black suitcase and changes of clothes were neatly stored in the polished oak bureau, but the bed linens were disturbingly cold and tangled up at the foot of the mattress.

"_Where is she?"_ John asked himself again. His tenuous control over the fear spiking through him was dissolving by the second . He needed to find her fast before he did something foolish like tear the hospital apart brick by brick.

"Joss," he called out. John had little hope that he would get an answer, but she had to be near damn it, she couldn't have gone far.

Brett and Ryan were just outside with the new guys and they would not have let her out of her room, much less their sights. Four well equipped men with special forces backgrounds should be able to keep tabs on one tiny woman - even if that woman was Detective Jocelyn Carter.

John raked his fingers through his hair and exhaled roughly. His instincts, as flawed as they had been of late, were buzzing, telling him time was running out. He glanced around the room one last time, hoping a clue would jump out at him even though he had already looked everywhere.

"_Well, not everywhere_," he conceded as he caught sight of a second doorway. There was one other place he had not tried - the adjoining bathroom. Maybe she was in there brushing her teeth or taking a relaxing shower, or doing whatever it was women did in the powder room late at night.

She had to be in there. That was the only plausible explanation John could come up with for the unoccupied room he now found himself in.

John sized up the door but stopped short of kicking it down. He rapped sharply on the trim and called her name again. "Joss?" Five seconds, then ten went by without an answer. "Joss?" He tried again before twisting the knob with a shaking hand.

The dark wood paneling gave easily and he held it open a few inches, waiting to hear water running or ear-splitting curses from an outraged woman. Nothing.

"Carter I'm coming in." John knew what he would find, but issued the warning anyway. A peak inside verified she was not in the small bathroom. He let the door swing shut behind him as he closed his eyes to concentrate on his next move.

_"Oh God,"_ a horrible thought occurred to him. What if she re-injured her shoulder or her concussion worsened and she needed emergency surgery?

John dismissed that theory almost immediately. Finch's men would have alerted him immediately if anything that urgent had happened. _"So where the hell is she?"_

"_The man at the beach house." _The bastard had enough of a head start he could have made it to the hospital before Harold's reinforcements showed up.

John roughly shoved aside his mounting fright and wrapped his emotionless CIA persona protectively around him as he pulled his SIG from his shoulder holster and stalked into the corridor.

He was through playing hide and seek.

Ryan was the first to greet him and Reese seized him by the collar while holding his gun on the other three surprised men.

"Fellas," his voice was calm and carried an empty air of friendliness as he stared down the gun's sight at each one. "Where's Detective Carter?"

Ryan's eyes bulged from the pressure John was exerting on his neck, and his answer came out as nothing more than a pitiful gasp. Brett stepped forward, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"She's in her room Reese." The shorter man's fingers twitched, telegraphing his intentions of going for his own weapon if given the chance. "She's been there all night - no one in or out since the nurse took her dinner tray around eight."

It was obvious he was telling the truth, but that didn't satisfy John since it didn't tell him where Joss was. He really did not want to shoot Finch's other employees, but his fear of losing her made that an option. He needed answers and he needed them now.

"Get that nurse," he snarled, and Brett hustled down the hall to do as he asked.

John lowered his weapon and tossed Ryan away from him while the other two men took several steps back. He turned to pace in front of her room, his eyes drawn to her unoccupied bed each time he passed the open entryway.

Ryan approached cautiously, with one hand massaging the reddened skin around his throat. "Reese, I'm sure she's…" His timid attempt at reassurance died on his lips when John turned to face him.

Brett took less than a minute to return with Veronica, but to John it felt like an eternity. He was itching to start a systematic search of the entire facility, but he needed to question the last people to physically see Joss first.

"Marshal J-J-Jennings," Veronica stuttered when she spied the gun hanging at his side. "W-What's going on?"

Reese holstered his SIG and walked towards the trembling woman, willing the John Reese that Joss knew and loved to make an appearance. He needed to be the John Reese who was learning to laugh again, to depend on others and accept their offers of friendship. The John Reese who was a better man for having Jocelyn Carter in his life - was a better man because of her.

"Veronica, when did you last see Detective Carter?" He asked with a tenderness he did not feel.

"When I came by around eight o'clock to get her tray." Her eyes darted from the group of men to the empty room just over his shoulder.

"How was she?"

"She was tired. I could tell she was in a bit of pain, but she refused any medication. Said she was waiting up for you." The redhead bit her lip and looked away.

Guilt, swift and strong, pummeled him with those words. Joss had been waiting up for him, depending on him to stop by and sit with her like he had done the four previous nights. She also knew about their search for Wetherby, and probably wanted updates. If nothing else he should have called to let her know he would be running late tonight.

There wasn't time, he argued with himself. Once Finch had secured Wetherby's addresses it was a race to make it out to the island before the cops did. During the two and a half hour drive, he was reviewing the various torture techniques he would use and mentally listing possible locations for a body dump. He couldn't have talked to Joss in that frame of mind, she knew him well enough that she would have figured out he was up to something. He couldn't take the chance that she would do something reckless to try to stop him.

"_There was plenty of time to phone her on the way back," _his conscience reminded him. Somewhere in between washing out his wound in that truck stop bathroom, his conversation with Finch, and picking up their midnight snack, he could have reached out to her. A large part of him wanted to wait so he could tell her about the latest developments in person; but a smaller, more petty and jealous part of him held back because he was frustrated with her for saying yes to Adam.

Now she was missing, either by her own design or someone else's, and John was sure he had played a part in that.

John flicked his wrist to check the time, his watch showing it was just after 2:00am. "_Where could she have gone out this hour? And how did she slip past the guard outside her door?"_

"Where else on this floor could she go?"

"There is a visitors courtyard and a small chapel around the corner from the nurse's station." Veronica counted. "We also have a small waiting room, and a doctor's lounge down the opposite hallway."

"Glenda is checking out the physical therapist's office and the weight room," Brett spoke up.

John grimly nodded. That at least gave him a place to start. "Brett, Ryan," both men stood a little straighter but had trouble looking him in the eye. "Take a look around out in the courtyard."

He hoped Joss was not foolish enough to go outside in the middle of a snowy winter's night in nothing but her thin pajamas, but he knew how much she liked being outside in the fresh air. She always wanted to meet up in the park or at a sidewalk café when the weather permitted, insisting that being outdoors helped clear her head.

"You two," he pointed to Andy and Patrick. "Go with Veronica and search the waiting area and doctor's lounge. I'll head to the chapel."

Both groups peeled away to follow his directions while John turned to make his way to the small vestry, a conflicting sense of purpose and failure in each step.

* * *

Joss fought against a surge of nausea as she tried to step away from the janitor's beefy hands. Something wasn't right here. His fingers bit into her hip through the elastic band at the top of her shorts as he tugged her closer to him.

"No I'm fine thank you," she tried again, however the man continued to hold her close.

"Please let me go," she moaned**. **Her dizziness was beginning to clear, but exhaustion was filing in behind to take its place.

He didn't say a word, but she felt his body twist as he reached into the cart behind him for something just beyond the edge of her vision. Joss struggled to pull away, but recognized the futility of her movements. Her muscles weren't strong enough to support her now, so without this custodian holding on to her she would have fallen to the floor in a heap. _"Why didn't I just go to the chapel like I planned?"_

"Let me go," she demanded again, using her right hand to push against his firm chest.

"Stop fighting me _sweetheart_. I can help you," he grunted, his breath gagging her.

"Detective Carter?" Glenda's voice rang out across the weight room, and Joss had never been so happy to hear another person's voice in her life - even if a lecture was waiting in the wings for her.

"What are you doing here?" The older nurse charged towards them, cocking a brow at the stranger. "Who are you?" she addressed him as she simultaneously moved Joss out of his arms and into her own.

"I'm on the night cleaning crew," he answered after a pause.

Joss watched Glenda study the man, then did the same herself, trying to see what had caught her attention.

"Where's your ID badge?" she asked.

He lowered his bald head and patted his pockets. "I must have left it in my locker." Glenda raised her brows so he hastened to add: "It's my first day."

"Who is your supervisor?"

Joss fervently prayed her knees would stop trembling while the two played a round of twenty questions.

"David, I think." His small grin, probably meant to invoke sympathy from Glenda, fell flat. "Like I said, it's my first day."

Glenda wanted to say more, and even Joss was curious about an employee who couldn't remember his boss' name; but apparently her flagging strength didn't care. Her legs buckled under her, causing Glenda to stagger back a few steps to keep her upright.

"Let's get you back to bed my dear." She gave the janitor one last glance and reminded him to pick up his badge, before shouldering Joss' weight and heading for the door.

"I can get you a wheelchair," she offered once they were in the dimly lit hallway.

"No thank you. I'll be fine." Joss was lying through her teeth, but she would be damned if she couldn't make it back under her own power. Thankfully her companion didn't comment on that, but continued to support her as they shuffled their way back to her room.

"You're lucky I found you first," Glenda said as they neared the chapel. "Marshal Jennings is about to turn this place upside down looking for you."

"_Marshal Jennings? John is here?"_ She didn't get any more time to dwell on that before she spied the man himself.

Joss stumbled to a halt, fascinated by the imposing sight her vigilante made as he bullied her two hapless bodyguards. John was facing away from her, but the rigid set of his shoulders and the tic of his jaw muscle warned her of the rage simmering just below the surface.

He flexed his fists at his sides as he stepped in even closer to invade Brett and Ryan's personal space, even though their backs were already against the wall. Joss couldn't hear the exact words he spoke, since John's voice usually lowered several octaves when his blood pressure was on the rise; but judging from the men's downcast expressions it was not a pleasant exchange.

Damn this was turning in to a fine mess!

"John." His name tumbled from her lips before she could stop it. Joss left Glenda's sheltering embrace and limped towards him.

The fury burning through the ice in his silvery blue eyes cut off anything else she wanted to say. Joss had never seen him this angry before, but something else bled through for a brief second, something resembling sheer terror.

Her smug confidence in the wisdom of her little adventure floundered as she realized how scared John was for her. As a mom and a cop, Joss was familiar with the scenarios that likely ran through his mind when he found her missing tonight. Embarrassed by the mess her restlessness had created, she looked away first. John dismissed Brett and Ryan with a few curt gestures, then moved to stand beside her.

"Are you alright?" the words were a deep growl that barely reached her ears.

Joss kept her eyes trained on the third button of his dress shirt as she nodded, then weakly stepped aside to continue to her room. Without warning her feet parted ways with the floor as John picked her up in his arms, drawing a startled squeak from her.

"It's okay John, I can walk." Joss wasn't sure why she insisted on lying when it was obvious that if left on her own, she would be crawling back to her room right about now.

"You can barely stand Carter." She felt the words rumble through his chest as she rested against him. The heat from his skin mixed with the subtle spices in his aftershave to soothe her nerves that were still frazzled after her run-in with the maintenance man a few minutes ago. Pathetic as it was to admit, being wrapped up in John's arms made her feel safe, protected, things she had not felt in years.

"I can make it." One last token protest and then she promised herself she would shut up, because it would be embarrassing if he decided to do as she asked for once.

"Just relax and let me carry you." His arms tightened around her, his way of letting her know he had no intention of putting her down.

_"Ahha,"_ Joss sucked in a quiet breath and tried to smother the cry of pain as she lifted her shoulder to wrap her arm around his neck.

"Joss?" John stopped walking and drew back, his steel-blue eyes darkening in concern.

"I'm okay John," she promised him, then tucked her face into the crook of his neck. "I'm okay," she said a second time, sensing he needed to hear it again. He sighed and laid his head against hers before proceeding back to her room.

Joss closed her eyes and allowed herself to enjoy being close to John while she could. Knowing an opportunity like this would be rare in the future spurred her in to doing something she had wanted to since their first meeting in that diner: Joss trailed her fingers over the stiff muscles at the back of his neck before sifting them through his salt and pepper hair in a slow massage. John said nothing, but nuzzled her cheek in response.

She relaxed against his body, tempted to let her drowsiness overtake her when she felt him come to a stop. Joss blinked her eyes open to see Brett and Ryan packing up their things, Veronica and two other well dressed men standing in a half circle around them. "What's going on?"

John continued his infuriating silence and turned to carry her the few remaining feet before depositing her gently on the bed. Joss expected him to sit down or stomp back into the hallway; but John surprised her again by lightly gripping her fingertips while he studied her with an expression she could not read.

They might have stayed that way all night had Glenda not cleared her throat, breaking the spell and reminding them of her presence in the room with them.

"I need to look at your shoulder Detective Carter." Her words wrenched John's attention to the wounded joint, his worry palpable. He reached out as if to tend to it himself, then stepped back to give Glenda room to do her job.

"I'll be out, uh, out there." John said quietly when the nurse slipped her shirt down her shoulder. His clenched jaw muscle told her he had seen the droplets of blood soaking through the gauze before he stepped outside.

Glenda wasted no time stripping the bandages and pronouncing she would be fine - only a slight tear that loosened one of her stitches. She quizzed her about pain levels as she padded the wound with several layers of gauze. The older nurse was not happy with Joss for turning down her medication again, but collected her supplies and headed out.

John reappeared and made sure the door shut firmly behind him. For a moment he stood on the threshold, wearing that same unreadable look that unnerved her.

Joss wished he would yell at her, scold her, hold her hand - anything besides stare holes through her with those intensely dark baby blues.

"How's your shoulder?" he finally asked, his chin jutting towards her fresh bandages.

"It's fine, just overextended it a little tonight." The muscles along his jaw started to flex again, but he didn't berate her for doing too much like she thought he might. Instead he shrugged out of his black overcoat and suit jacket, and picked up a paper sack from the floor.

Without another word John claimed his usual seat and plopped the night's mystery dessert in front of her. Her stomach rebelled at the thought of food, she could eat a bite until they cleared the air between them.

"John," he needed to know that it was her fault, not Brett's or Ryan's. She wanted to tell him that she had not acted out on purpose to worry him, she was just restless and …and what? Afraid she had made a mistake by letting him back into her life, fearful he was with Zoe tonight and had abandoned her again?

No, she couldn't tell him that, she would never tell him. Joss didn't want John to know that she was aware of his relationship with the city's most notorious fixer, much less what she saw that night. Nothing good would come from that conversation anyway.

She ran her tongue nervously over her dry lips and tried again, "I didn't mean -"

"It's okay Carter." John waved away her apology with a hand that held two plastic spoons. "Dig in before it melts any further." He extended one across the table, his eyes fixed on her.

Joss held his stare as she gingerly accepted the red utensil. If this were any other man, Joss would swear she saw a hint of desire mixed in with the frustration and anxiety; but that was beyond ridiculous where John Reese was concerned. Her heart was imagining what it wanted to see there, what it had hoped to see for so long.

John took the second one for himself and scooped out a large bite before offering the carton to her. Her spoon sank through the thawed custard with ease, but it was still cool and delicious - perfect for her scratchy throat. Joss scraped out another spoonful, finding that her stomach was not as picky as it had been earlier.

She was enjoying her third taste when she felt several drops splatter against her chest, just above her t-shirt's v-neck collar. Joss inhaled quietly when the cold custard dribbled down further, and she hoped with all her might that John had not noticed.

Cursing her clumsiness, Joss dipped her spoon back into the container and used her tongue to get rid of the remnants around her mouth while surreptitiously looking for a napkin….only to run into John Reese's stormy blue eyes**.**

Moving was not an option for Joss, even with a glob of ice cream in danger of slipping further down her chest. She was pinned in place by an invisible force as John reached out to tenderly rub away the mess she had created.

Her heart tripped over itself when the backs of his long fingers came into contact with the swell of her breasts, hidden by the bright green fabric. If he noticed the change in her breathing, John didn't comment as his thumb stroked a delicate pattern over the same spot several more times.

"_Have mercy." _Joss begged when John brought his thumb back to his mouth to suck away all traces of the lemon flavored sweet, his gaze never leaving hers.

Had she passed out back in the weight room after all? Was this another stupid dream brought on by stress of the last few days and the medications the nurses insisted she take? If she could raise her hand, she would pinch herself to find out, but the wolfish desire flickering across his face stilled her.

John Reese, as ludicrous as it sounded, looked like he wanted to kiss her - and God help her, she wouldn't stop him. Tonight she didn't have the willpower to turn him away, no matter how ridiculous or ill-advised that choice would be.

It had to be the hospital then, the close quarters and powerful disinfectants they used on the floors must make people forget who they are the rules they lived by outside of these walls.

She was going to need therapy before this was all over.

* * *

He needed professional help.

This need to kiss her was overpowering and pushing what little self-control he had to its limits. John told himself it would only be a quick caress to reassure himself that Joss was unharmed and still with him...which was partially true; but it didn't explain the blatantly inappropriate urge he had to taste the light foam edging her full lips.

It had started when she appeared outside the sanctuary a few minutes ago, looking uneasy and on the verge of collapse. He had called on every ounce of strength to keep from grabbing Joss by her arms and kissing her senseless for scaring ten years off his life. Now in the privacy of her room, staring at those pale yellow drops clinging to her honey infused skin, a very different reason motivated him to kiss her.

A week ago he would have teased her with a few smart-alec comments and then tossed her a napkin, but tonight was different. The atmosphere around them was thick with awareness and her eyes were luminous umber pools that mirrored his own feelings of confusion and desire.

He had to touch her, and without hesitation John reached out to wipe away all traces with his thumb. Her skin was every bit as soft as he imagined it would be, and he ached to open his hand and take the full weight of her breast in his palm.

He was delirious, definitely not in his right mind, because if he were thinking clearly, he most certainly would not have drawn his thumb into his own mouth to lick off the tangy stickiness, fantasizing about how she would taste now: tart lemon, sweet cream, and Joss.

John registered the change in her breathing, each pant causing the back of his fingers to brush against the emerald fabric of her t-shirt and the firm flesh it covered. The fluttering beat of Joss' heart under his fingertip confirmed that he was not the only one affected by the charged moment.

Good, it was nice to see her finally show some reaction to him instead of fawning over her new hero and forgetting that she loved him.

But this was lust not love, he told himself, and he shouldn't be encouraging her feelings for him. Joss deserved a man who was committed not curious, and giving her false hope that he returned her affections would be cruel. It couldn't happen, even once - though something told him that one time with this woman would not be enough for him. A liaison between them would be dangerous, perhaps leading to something more, something he was neither ready for nor wanted.

Which led him back to his original argument - he had nothing to give to her, he would only take everything from her. He couldn't give her the love she deserved…but at times like these, he found himself wishing he could.

The fierce relief at finding her safe after a long day and his fury at failing her yet again were to blame for these wild thoughts - that and her damn 'I love you' - otherwise he wouldn't be obsessing over things he had never noticed about his partner or thought about in years.

"_Maybe this hospital has a psych ward I can check myself into,"_ he sighed to himself.

Struggling with the direction his mind was taking, John shifted in his seat to reign in his libido and runaway ideas. They needed to talk about this _thing _between them, but the timing didn't feel right to him. Right now he should tell her about Wetherby and reassure her the threat is over even if he wasn't so sure it was.

"What happened out there John?" Her hushed voice broke through his reverie. John didn't know what to make of the change in subject. Surely Carter wasn't avoiding that discussion too?

"I'm sorry if I worried you tonight Joss." He knew he had so he might as well get that out of the way upfront. "I was late because I was hunting down Alexander Wetherby…which you probably already knew."

John lifted his eyes to hers, receiving a cautious nod of confirmation. "I found him Joss."

She didn't bother hiding the trepidation unfolding across her features, and he knew she was wondering what he had done in his rage. John focused on the abandoned dessert between them, then turned back to her.

"I was going to kill him," he confessed in a strained whisper.

Reese didn't miss the flicker of relief his words brought about. The tension in her shoulders lessened and the corners of her lips lifted in a small grin, probably ready to thank him for letting the man live. This woman had too much faith in him. The only reason John didn't torture and kill Wetherby was because the bastard was already dead.

"So he's in jail?"

That was his Joss, optimistic until the bitter end. She truly believed he was a good man who would do the right thing. Her confidence in him was almost enough to bring a smile to his face.

"No," his answer was hoarse, dragged out of him. "I was going to kill him for what he did to you Joss, but I was too late." _"Again,"_ his mind ridiculed.

Her eyebrows shot up in astonishment "He's dead?" she breathed. John sympathized with her bewilderment, he was still trying to wrap his mind around what he had found as well. "How?"

"I'm sorry Joss, but yes, he's dead." How, that was the million dollar question. He watched her warily, unsure how she would react to the rest of what he had to say. "Most of the evidence points to suicide."

"Suicide?" Her voice cracked on the last syllable, then she reared back as the rest of his account caught up with her. "Wait, you said most of the evidence?"

Damn, he needed to pick his words more carefully. John wasn't sure how much more he should reveal at this point. Joss was a grown woman and capable of handling the truth, but he didn't want to scare her with the news that her attacker was still lurking around out there. He wanted to be able to tell her he had eliminated the threat, that she was safe.

Carter was one hell of a detective though, and if she suspected there was more to the story than he was telling her she would keep digging. That digging could get her into trouble, so John opted for telling her the truth, knowing he would be there to protect her from now on.

"Wetherby hung himself at his family's beach house out in Montauk tonight, but before he did he left a note admitting he killed Miranda Chamberlin, and attacked you." He paused to give her a chance to cry, yell, do _something_, but she just sucked in her lips and stared at the wall in front of her.

"I didn't have time to look at the body too closely before Terney and a hundred of your closest friends on the force showed up; but what I did see, makes me wonder if it was staged. The ligature marks were…off."

He intentionally left out Finch's hacking efforts for the time being. If one of his hunches paid off he would fill her in later, but for now he could help keep her conscience clean. Joss had come a long way in embracing some of their less than legal tactics, but she wasn't ready to know the lengths he would go to for her.

"Fusco is sticking with the investigation and we should know more soon," he added to fill the silence.

Joss bit her lower lip, the Detective in her considering what he had revealed. A melancholy mood settled over the room, and his heart seized at the tears welling in her dark eyes.

"So that's it." John wasn't sure if Joss was asking a question or stating a fact. "Case closed." Her tone was resigned, but he could feel her mind churning, working hard to remember any detail from that night she could.

"Joss," he gripped her hand, kneading the soft skin in an effort to ease her distress. "Don't -"

"I'm okay John." She pulled her hand away then pushed back the table holding their ruined dessert. "Is that all?"

"_Not exactly."_ John laid his forearms over his knees and stared at the speckled floor tiles reconsidering the wisdom of his decision to tell her everything that happened at the crime scene.

The dull ache in his side was graduating to sharp spasms thank to the adrenaline fading from his system, and Joss looked ready to drop. If he told her about his run-in with the intruder he would have a fight on his hands to keep her here until her discharge papers were signed. Granted that was a fight he could easily win, but even so he didn't want to start an argument with her at two thirty in the morning.

He was saved from having to say anything as Veronica chose that moment to peek in with her nightly cocktail of pain relievers.

"Detective Carter how are you -" the woman didn't even get the chance to finish.

"Thanks, but I'm fine. Really." Joss was firm but polite in her refusal, and John didn't feel the least bit compelled to coax her into compliance this time. He was no stranger to the frustration that came with being immobilized after an injury, when the people who were there to help you became a source of irritation not comfort.

It was obvious to anyone who saw her that Joss was hurting, but that didn't give the nurses - or himself even - the right to ignore her wishes and pressure her into taking something she didn't want to. Joss was a grown woman who knew her body and how much pain she could tolerate before it became too much.

"Joss you pushed yourself way too hard tonight. This will help you relax and get some rest." Veronica shook the small paper cup, sending the pills rattling against the sides.

"I appreciate your concern V, honestly I do, but I don't need those right now." Joss said the words around a tight smile, but John could hear the aggravation creeping in - a sentiment he was beginning to share.

Veronica glossed over that remark and tried again. "Let's stop the pain now before it gets worse."

"I'll find you if she needs anything," Reese held Joss' bright gaze as he spoke up in her defense.

His gruff rebuke made it clear the discussion was over and the young nurse left seconds later in a fit of exasperation. John knew he was being rude, but he couldn't bring himself to care tonight. He was tired of watching people run over Joss just because they thought they knew what was best for her.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"I've got your back Joss. Always," he promised laying one hand over hers with a gentle squeeze. She didn't break the physical connection like he feared she might, but turned her palm over to lace their fingers and consider him with a candid gratitude.

John increased the pressure on her lean fingers slightly as he met her frank stare with one of his own. Her heart-shaped face, free from any trace of make-up, radiated a healthy glow that overshadowed any lingering bruises along her jaw line. Thick sable hair fell in loose waves across her shoulders to stand out against the dark green fabric of her top; but it was her eyes, a bewitching russet color, that drew him in.

How long would it be before her love for him diminished, and she looked at another man like this? "_Adam certainly seems eager to take on that role_," John sulked. "_What if I don't let him?"_

"She is right you know," Joss shyly removed her hand and reached for the bed covers. "I'd better get some sleep."

"Yeah," he agreed, with a deep breath in. "It's well past your bedtime young lady."

Joss let out a small laugh when she burrowed into her pillows, but the humor fell flat between them. "Good night John," she lifted her chin solemnly and closed her eyes.

"Good night Joss," he returned. John was concerned about her quiet acceptance of tonight's events, after all Joss was not one to simply let things go. He would mention it again later after she got some rest - and hopefully by then Fusco and Finch could provide him with some solid leads.

John leaned back into the sparsely cushioned chair and listened as Joss' breathing slowed and evened out. He prayed sleep would come easily for her, knowing it was out of the question for him.

The infomercial playing on TV did not interest him so he stood and moved to the row of windows where he wouldn't disturb Joss. He texted Lionel for an update and received a reply within seconds - _Nothing new yet, the cavalry is heading back to the city now._

Finch also had no news to share when John called him.

"By all accounts, Mr. Wetherby appears to be an upstanding citizen Mr. Reese. He has virtually no debt, a modest bank account, a steady job at an accounting firm just off Wall Street."

"Nothing that paints him as a brutal murderer." John mulled that over.

"Nothing yet, but I've only started digging." John heard the clack of computer keys in the background accompany Finch's distracted words. "Also Detective Fusco snapped a picture of the suicide note. I'm meeting with a handwriting expert tomorrow - well later this morning - to look it over."

"I have a feeling Wetherby was forced to write that note. There was a mark near his temple that could have come from a gun being pressed there." John was more familiar than most with what that contusion looked like, having dealt out his fair share of them during his tenure with the CIA. "An effective way to ensure his cooperation."

"I'll just check in with the medical examiner's office then. An extra set of eyes can't hurt." Harold volunteered.

John smiled, appreciating his employer's computer savvy more by the minute, but he had one more issue to resolve before he let him get back to work.

"I can't take any numbers tonight Finch." The numbers should be his primary mission, and they would have been for CIA John; but the man he was now refused to leave his friend alone and vulnerable just to rescue a stranger.

"I sent Brett and Ryan home tonight," he tacked on. Finch probably already knew about the incident, but the specifics could wait. "I'm staying with Carter tonight and I'll take her home later once the doctor releases her."

"Absolutely. We take care of our own Mr. Reese."

John exhaled in relief. He disconnected the call and telepathically begged the machine to take the night off. Their squad was out of commission for now - Fusco was shepherding the physical investigation and passing along any helpful leads, Finch was following-up on the technical aspects such as the 911 call, the voicemail tip, and background checks. Joss physically couldn't help out, and John appointed himself her personal bodyguard. The world had survived billions of years without team machine, it would be okay for one more night.

He ambled back to his chair and surfed through the channels before he stopped on reruns of Gilligan's Island - the theme song was catchy even if they never did get off that blasted island. The castaways were rejoicing over another ill-fated rescue plan when his phone lit up with an incoming call.

_"Zoe"_

Damn, he had completely forgotten to call her back after sending her to voicemail at the library earlier. He was not in the mood to speak to her and sorely wanted to push that red button; but the gentleman - the stupid gentleman - he was trying to be insisted he answer after ignoring her three previous calls.

The device buzzed angrily against his thigh. _"Voicemail…answer…voicemail…answer?" _If he waited long enough his phone could make the decision for him, after all he didn't want to wake Joss, so -

"Zoe," he kept his fingers crossed she didn't hear the feeble groan that followed her name.

"John," her throaty voice held notes of relief and irritation. "Thank God you answered. I was beginning to worry something had happened to you…or that you were divorcing me - again."

"No, just a long day at the office." He didn't want to rehash the events of the last twelve hours with Zoe.

"Well, why don't you make your way over to my place? I have just the thing to help you relax," she purred into the phone.

Reese instantly composed a laundry list of reasons to turn down her offer, starting with his utter exhaustion and ending with his absolute refusal to leave Joss in the hands of the hospital's geriatric security crew for a quick tumble in Zoe's sheets. He added the throbbing wound under his ribs to the list for good measure.

"Not tonight Zoe." John heard the angry huff break through her usually cool façade and tensed.

"You're at the hospital again aren't you John?" He bristled at the implication. "Detective Carter is in good hands, Finch's men are the best money can buy. There's nothing more you can do there."

John remained silent, growing more and more aggravated with the woman on the other end of the line.

"You need your rest John." She probably meant for the words to sound sincere and caring, but they came across as bogus and cloying.

"I'm fine Zoe," he ground out. "I'm staying with Joss tonight."

John looked at the small woman in the bed, her features relaxed in sleep, but he noticed her stir at the sound of his voice. He heaved himself out of his chair and moved back to the tinted windows to lean his body against the chilly panes.

"You care so much for others, but who cares for you John?"

Normally he would brush aside questions like that and embrace his lonely life; but now he was getting to a place where he recognized the core people in his life who cared for him and deserved credit for their support.

Finch was an obvious answer to her question. Harold had given him a purpose, a job he truly enjoyed, a roof over his head, clothes on his back, and most importantly, his friendship.

Fusco too, cared for him in his own odd way, filling the gap left by the absence of his older and younger brothers. Lionel was someone he could tease and pick on mercilessly, but also depend on to have his back

Then there was Joss, the heart and soul of their team.

She took care of him physically - riding shotgun on all of his wild and crazy schemes, most times against his wishes and in spite of his repeated attempts to push her away. Afterwards she would patiently clean him up and bandage his wounds while telling him exactly what she thought of his actions. He always tried to keep his smile hidden during her tirades, but the ones that slipped through only provoked her further…and it was worth every stinging barb she threw at him.

Her loyalty didn't end there. No Joss looked after his heart too, again without his permission or knowledge, but at this point he was a willing hostage. Even after the upheavals they endured in their short friendship, Joss was the one he opened up to, the one he sought for advice, for a fresh perspective. She kept him grounded and inspired him to do better. He needed that, he needed her.

He had foolishly left her once thinking it was for her own good, but never again.

"Won't you John?"

"_Huh?"_ Thinking of Joss had him so distracted he had not heard a word of what Zoe had said. Now would be a fantastic time for his battery to die or the signal to fade. "What Zoe?"

"Let me help you John." Her displeasure at his wandering attention was crystal clear. He wasn't in the mood for their usual rounds of stress relieving sex, so what other help could she give him? Reese felt more than an inkling of remorse over his harsh assessment.

Zoe was a complicated and intelligent woman in her own right, but she couldn't begin to understand what these last few months had been like for him - could she? He was leaning towards 'no', but when had he ever given her a chance to prove she could? Hell, he didn't feel like testing that out tonight. He needed to end the call before he hurt her feelings with his foul temper.

"Not tonight Zoe. I'll see you next week at the fundraiser." Even that would depend on the numbers, this case, and Joss.

"I want to see you before then John." A sultry inflection replaced her earlier annoyance with him. "In fact, if you come on over now I'll show you the dress I'm wearing next Saturday….and what I'll be wearing underneath it."

He would have to be dead to miss the blatant invitation in her voice, an invitation that at another time might have been tempting. "I'll have to take a rain check."

"John," her voice lost its smoothness and now just sounded scratchy.

"I'll see you Saturday night," and with that he hung up.

Yeah, definitely should have sent her to voicemail.

An unladylike snort and a soft mumble from Joss brought a smile to his lips - she apparently agreed with him. John walked back to the bed and adjusted the blankets to shield her from the slight chill in the air, then bent to kiss her forehead - a habit he was becoming disturbingly more comfortable with - before moving back to his post by the frost covered glass.

Now that he was distraction free, his earlier fears raced back to taunt him in the quiet confines of her darkened room. The terror he felt when he walked in to find Joss' bed empty wrapped around him like a straight jacket three sizes too small.

Joss had not intentionally set out to scare him tonight, he knew that for a fact. She was probably going crazy lying in that bed all day; and truth be told, he had done far worse in the past thanks to his own restless urgings, which was why he didn't let her finish her unnecessary apology.

John contemplated the woman lying against the stark white sheets, her beautiful face bathed in the diffused moonlight sifting through the clouds. She meant a great deal to him, and the depths of those feelings were unclear and just as frightening to him as the thought of losing her.

This was not how he intended things to turn out at all. Jocelyn Carter, NYPD Detective, was supposed to be a diversion for a short while, their game of cat and mouse a hobby to entertain him between the numbers. She was never supposed to catch him, to work with him, or permeate his life as she had. He should have known better though, from that first day her compassion looked past the filth, alcohol and broken man to the real John Reese underneath. She slipped past his defenses better than any CIA operative in the business and now he didn't want a life without her in it. He had not felt this connected to anyone since Jessica…and perhaps that's what scared him the most.

John pushed away from the black metal casement and grabbed their leftovers, the custard now a drab yellow liquid. He tossed everything in the sack and walked to the small bathroom to wet a few paper towels, stopping short at his reflection in the square mirror over the sink. Warm water continued to run over his hands and soak the paper towels while he took in his haggard appearance. He could use a shave and a few days worth of sleep, but that wasn't likely to happen any -

Joss' scream shattered the calm night air and sent him scrambling back to her bed to take her into his arms. John instantly swung into guardian angel mode and scanned the room for any possible threat before he realized it was a nightmare and hugged her tighter to him.

"John?" she whimpered, her face buried in the cook of his neck.

"Sshh Joss, I'm right here," he murmured over the quiet sobs that shook her petite frame. John cupped the back of her head in one hand while the other rubbed her back in was he hoped was a comforting pattern. "You're safe, it was just a nightmare."

The door flew open and Reese reached behind him for the gun in his waistband, every muscle in his body tensing before he recognized a wide-eyed Glenda behind the floor's security guard who also had a hand on his weapon. John waved the pair away before they could advance any further, knowing their presence would make the situation worse.

Glenda bobbed her head in understanding and prodded the older man back out into the hallway. Once the door latched shut behind them John carefully eased himself down onto the mattress cradling Joss securely against him.

"You're safe now, I've got you," he continued his soothing strokes up and down her spine, feeling her muscles slowly relax under his fingertips several minutes later.

"Can you talk about it?"

"I -" her voice faltered around a hard swallow. "I think there was someone there with me that night John."

"Why do you say that Joss?" He was concerned that the stress of the day was catching up to her. What if putting a name and face to their suspect was playing tricks with her mind?

"It's all a little hazy, but it felt so damn real - more like a memory." Her fist tightened around his white dress shirt, drawing him impossibly closer to her. "I was back at the apartment collecting evidence when the power went out. There was a noise in the kitchen, but before I could check that out he was coming towards me, wearing body armor and some kind of night vision headgear."

Reese's blood rain cold and his hands stilled at her account of the attacker. She had just described the man at the beach house tonight too accurately for it to be a coincidence.

Another round of hot tears dripped down his neck leaving a scalding trail in their wake. "He raised his gun and fired a shot at me, but tha- that's when I woke up. A few inches over and …"

He was thankful she stopped there. He didn't want to consider how differently that night could have ended, how this new life he was building would have ended.

"Are you sure he's gone John?" Hearing the tremor of fear in her voice, he wanted to wrap himself around her and never let go. If it were possible he would shield her from any further fear and suffering the corrupt cops, Carl Elias', and Alexander Wetherby's in the world might try to inflict on her.

The pillow case rustled underneath them when he leaned away slightly to place a soft kiss against her cheek. "I'm sure honey."

Joss raised her head just enough to meet his sober gaze, the glittering tears clinging to her dark lashes broke his heart. "I won't let him hurt you, not again."

She lowered her forehead to touch his and released a shaky breath that fanned across his lower lip.

"You're safe with me Joss, I promise." he whispered, his mouth barely brushing across hers with each word. Relief over her safety and his desire for her urged him to deepen the contact, certain she would welcome his advances. But John couldn't bring himself to take advantage of her by using her vulnerability and his knowledge of her feelings for him. Instead he settled for feathering another light kiss along her hairline and tucking her into his chest.

They could have laid there ten seconds or ten hours, he really had no idea. John was content to remain in the narrow bed all night with Joss in his arms, subtle hints of crisp apple and wild rose flooding his senses. Joss' tears had subsided, but she kept herself pressed against him, her labored breathing falling on his neck.

"I'm sorry John."

"Hey, you have nothing to apologize for Joss. Nothing." John massaged the tight muscles at the base of her neck. "In fact I'm the one who should be apologizing. You wouldn't be here if it weren't for me, but I'm here now and I'm not going to disappear again. Tell me what you need and I'll do it."

He meant that wholeheartedly, nothing was going to drag him away from her again. The promise he made to her in that alleyway meant more than just watching over her while they worked on a number together, he realized that now.

John felt her stiffen in his arms and dropped his hands to her waist, intending to comfort her through another round of tears and memories. He wasn't prepared for the hand clutching his shirt flatten against his chest and push away.

"What?"

"You're not alone Joss. I will always be here for you." Why was she looking at him like he had told her a herd of pigs was about to take flight from the hospital's roof?

"Yeah right." He heard the grumble before she said in a stronger voice, "I'm fine Reese, but I'd like to be alone."

What had changed in the last few seconds? Her attitude now was decidedly icier, and he felt the chill even more as she extricated herself from his arms. He couldn't do anything but stare at her.

"You asked me to tell you what I needed and that's it. I need you to get out."

"Joss I'm not leaving you." Surely she didn't mean that. He cursed himself for speaking without thinking it through, something he did a lot around this woman.

"John please," fresh tears gathered in her eyes. "Just go."

He captured the hand laying against his pounding heart and ran his thumb across her knuckles. "I'm not letting you go again Joss."

"No I -" She yanked her hand out of his and leaned against the bed railing. "Reese please don't fight me on this."

Hurt, regardless of whether he had a right to be or not, John held her fiery gaze as he slipped off the bed and gathered his things. She was the first to look away, but not before he glimpsed fear hiding behind her anger.

"I'll be right outside if you need anything."

"I won't."

Of course Joss wasn't going to make this easy for him.

"Let me know when you're ready to go tomorrow Carter." She was already shaking her head. "Finch and I will take you home."

"Not necessary."

"Yes it is," he informed her with his own anger reaching the surface as well. Joss had another thing coming if she thought pushing him away would deter him from protecting her.

"No, just…I'll call you." She drew her knees up and hugged them to her.

"I'll be right outside if you need anything," he emphasized one last time, but Joss gave no indication that she heard him and kept her eyes glued to her thick blanket.

John released a breath that resembled a low roar. He would respect her wishes and go - for now - even though he did not want to be anywhere else but by her side. He stepped towards the bed while shrugging on his black suit jacket and tried to no avail to grab Carter's attention.

Always a glutton for punishment, John pushed back the dark curtain of hair obscuring her face to touch her one last time. He winced at the tears falling unchecked, and unconsciously used his thumb to wipe them away, caressing the apple of her cheek. Joss gasped and pulled away as if his touch burned her, and perhaps it had because John felt stung by the contact as well.

Every cell in his body rebelled at leaving her like this, it just felt wrong. He had spent the last two months avoiding Joss and their complicated relationship; but he was through running away and he wanted to stay, make her talk to him until every issue between them was ironed out. One look at Joss' rigid posture told him that would not happen tonight, if anything his persistence would only widen the gap between them.

"Good night Carter, try to get some rest."

Joss didn't move or acknowledge his departure, but John detected a slight tremble in her chin that made him feel every inch the monster many people believed him to be. He ignored his instincts that were screaming at him to stay, and forced his legs to carry him outside one step at a time without looking back. This was his fault and there wasn't a damn thing he could do to make it better tonight, but he wasn't giving up without a fight.

He made it as far as the threshold before he heard the first sniffle. Joss was trying her best to muffle the pitiful sounds, but more escaped before the door clicked softly shut behind him.

Several times he reached for the knob, ready to haul her into his arms again and beg her to listen to him; but that would ruin any chance he had of fixing this disaster he'd created.

John slumped against the wall in bitter defeat and closed his eyes to listen to the one woman he never wanted to hurt cry herself to sleep.

* * *

The phone was answered after the first ring.

"Is it done?"

He hesitated to tell his employer the truth, but there was no hiding the fact that Jocelyn Carter was still alive and relatively well.

"Not yet," he reported cautiously. "I was close, but her nurse showed up asking questions. I barely got out of the hospital before she came back with a pair of security guards."

"I did not hire you to get _close_ to killing her. I'm beginning to think I made a mistake Vadim, how hard can it be to kill one defenseless woman?"

_Harder than you would think," _he objected, fingering the tender bridge of his nose. The bitch had damn near broken it last week.

Vadim was positive the detective had been dead when he snapped her picture and texted the required 'proof' to the man who had hired him. He didn't count on the fire department showing up just as he was slipping out the alleyway - or the heavy guards posted at the hospital for one simple detective.

It was pure luck that he found her alone tonight, and he was close to sealing the deal when that old bat had shown up and ruined his plans. He failed tonight, but he would have other opportunities once she was beyond those four walls. Her guard dogs would go home, leaving her all alone again.

"There were a few minor setbacks sir, but I won't miss next time."

"I should hope not, I would hate to have to tell my friend Yogoroff that his highly recommended hit man isn't up to the task."

That was the last thing he needed.

"I won't miss next time," he repeated, the words meant to bolster his employers confidence and his own.

"Good, I want Detective Carter dead - sooner rather than later. She's done enough damage to my organization as it is. If she realizes -"

Vadim waited, curious about what this woman had done to draw the attention of men like these.

"We just can't take the chance that her memory might return."

No, he couldn't take that chance either. He had been so confident of the outcome that night that he had taunted her with the name of the group that sent him after her - a secret she was supposed to have taken to the grave with her. She had also seen his face, something he had managed to prevent with his other kills. Although she had not recognized him at the hospital tonight, he couldn't be too careful.

"I'll take care of it sir."

"See that you do, and make sure the job is finished this time. Need I remind you Vadim that you don't get paid until our little loose end is all tied up?"

"No sir, I'm aware of that." He needed that money desperately, he had problems of his own to deal with. He needed to finish this job, get his money and head out of town as soon as possible. "She's as good as gone."

"I will expect a more definitive confirmation of her death before any payment is made. It will take more than just a picture and your word this time."

"Of course," his sarcastic quip was met with dead silence.

Vadim shook his head at his reflection in the bathroom's mirror. A change of appearance was in order for what he had in mind. He slipped out a pair of colored contacts from the medicine cabinet and marched to the bedroom closet to sift through his assortment of wigs.

Detective Carter would be dead by the end of the week.

* * *

**A/N: I'm so sorry this update took so long. I wasn't happy with the first version so I rewrote it a few times. I hope this was worth the wait, as always thank you for taking the time to read my story, and a big thank you to stlouiegal for her encouragement and fantastic ideas! Feel free to send me a review, let me know what you think or if there are any suggestions, or something you'd like to see!**


	6. Chapter 6

**I do not own Person of Interest or any characters you may recognize.**

* * *

Her mom was actually going through with this crazy idea.

The woman had been serious about throwing a celebration dinner party which was why Joss was now standing in front of her dresser mirror almost a week after being discharged from the hospital, debating between a pair of small gold hoops or her diamond stick drop earrings.

"_Dangly?"_ she held up the glittering pair to her left ear for a quick inspection.

"_Or hoops?" _Joss raised the jewelry in her left hand up to her other lobe, focusing on how they looked and not the sporadic twinges that still plagued her when she moved her healing shoulder. She compared the two possibilities several more times before deciding on the smaller pair and a delicate gold chain necklace to complete her look.

Joss sighed heavily and turned back to her closet to take one last inventory of her dresses. This was the third one she had tried on, but maybe her purple sweater dress with the cowl neck would look better. She let another groan escape as she held it by the hanger and draped it across her body.

If she had honestly believed her mom would follow through she would have gone shopping for a special outfit, especially considering who would be there tonight. Instead she had written off her mom's invitation to dinner as just an attempt to corner Adam into asking out her poor spinster daughter.

Sofia Daniels had definitely proven her wrong though. When her mom wasn't taking Taylor to school and basketball practices, running Joss to physical therapy appointments, and lecturing her on the virtues of taking it easy, she was busy planning the menu, buying food, cleaning the apartment - again - and organizing her guest list…ugh the guest list!

What had her mom been thinking?

Joss eyeballed her reflection in the closet's full length mirror for the seventh time that evening, and tucked the dress back in with the others she rarely got the chance to wear. She marched over to her dresser to re-examine her casual up-do and shoved a few more pins into the loose bun at the nape of her neck. After a few tugs on the small wispy curls that insisted on hugging her throat and she stepped back to take in the full effect.

Perfect. For all her fretting, Joss had to admit she looked absolutely perfect. Everything about her was soft and feminine, understated and simply beautiful.

She gave into a girlish impulse and twirled around on the polished hardwood floor with enough vigor to send her skirt swishing around her thighs. The scattering of tiny sequins sewn into the carmine colored fabric sparkled under the lights of her bedroom as it settled back in place a few inches above her knees.

The woman staring back at her was calm, cool, and collected - which was a true miracle because inside she was a nervous wreck. Joss knew it was silly, stupid really, to be this anxious about seeing Adam again. After all he had seen her at her worst and asked her out anyway; but now he was coming to her home and she wanted to show him that she could clean up nicely too.

Joss cast her eighth - or was it ninth - look at the mirror and tugged on the scooped neckline of the blouson dress with a frown. There. Now it covered the bandaged scar left by Alexander Wetherby's bullet. There would be no hiding the light fingertip marks circling her throat, but those bruises were quickly fading and would be gone in another day or two.

The scratches and cuts on her upper arms caused by falling debris were healing as well and they barely showed through the slit that ran from shoulder to elbow in each sleeve. Her long side-swept bangs fell across her temple in their natural swoop and covered the odd-shaped blemish there.

She grabbed her newest bottle of perfume from the dresser top and spritzed her body one last time with the tantalizing scent. The flame colored bottle clattered against the others as she set it down.

"_Get it together Joss."_

It wasn't like she and Adam had stopped talking after her release from the hospital, just the opposite in fact. Between her physical therapy appointments and his firefighter duties they checked in with each other through phone calls or text messages and caught up on how the day was going so far. Last night when he called to confirm the time for the party they ended up talking for over an hour and made plans to go out that Saturday - tomorrow.

If there was anything to worry about this evening, it would be Harold and John's presence at dinner tonight - if a number didn't come along to divert their attentions. Joss snickered to herself, remembering their identical 'deer-in-the-headlight' expressions when her mom issued the invitation last Saturday morning after they brought her home.

John had frozen in the middle of lugging her suitcase and personal items to her bedroom, while Harold paused his critique of Taylor's algebra homework. It would have been funny to watch, if she wasn't scrambling to come up a plausible excuse for why they couldn't be there.

Finch was the first to recover and he astounded her with his gracious acceptance; but it was John's quiet "_me too_" that left her speechless. She had followed him down the hallway swearing she would find a way to get them out of it.

"_It's for you Carter, we'll be here," _was all he had said after he set the bags down inside the doorway of her room.

Joss didn't expect either man to show up, knowing the social interaction might be uncomfortable or even compromising for them. She tried again to communicate that to John on the phone last night, but he didn't make excuses or try to back out, just quietly assured her that both he and Finch would be there if it was at all possible.

But when he asked if he could bring a guest along she almost uninvited him right then and there. The only 'guest' she could picture John bringing to a dinner party was Zoe Morgan, but he knew better than that…didn't he? Maybe he meant Leon Tao, which would be still be weird, but definitely a preferable alternative - otherwise the gloves were coming off.

Joss bent to retrieve her nutmeg toned peep-toe heels from the box on the bed and slip them on, while John Reese continued to occupy prime real-estate in her thoughts.

His promise should have upset her, but she was actually happy knowing he might show up tonight. It meant she would see him again, that she wouldn't be left to wonder when their paths might cross after he walked out her front door.

Yes, Joss knew she was supposed to be through with him, but falling out of love with John Reese was proving to be a Herculean task; and judging by the determined look on his face as he left her apartment last week, she knew John was not going to make it any easier for her.

It was no big deal honestly. She was a strong woman and Joss was confident she could handle whatever he threw at her. So what if she missed him? That was fine. Perfectly fine.

"_People miss their friends when they don't see them often, and I can't just turn my back on him after all he's done for me,"_ she reasoned with her conscience.

"_Sure, but do friends also fantasize about each other?"_ Joss grabbed the bed post to keep her balance as she stumbled into her right shoe.

Well uh, no, not usually; but that only happened once…okay twice, well five times if she counted the dreams she had in the hospital - which she did not because those were caused by her medication, not any desire on her part.

Yeah that explanation sucked, but she didn't have time to get drawn any further into that argument tonight. A quick glance at the clock told her the guests would start arriving soon, ready or not.

Joss crammed the lid back on the box and did her best to ignore her doubts, questions, and memories of the previous week that were following her down the hall as she made her way to the kitchen to lend a hand with dinner.

Despite her intentions to the contrary, she did 'make up' with John the morning after their fight at the hospital. He had reluctantly walked out and Joss cried herself to sleep, realizing that she had snapped at him out of exhaustion and fright.

The shaky dam she'd built to keep all the anger and fear at bay crumbled when John started throwing around empty promises like: _"I'll always be here",_ and _"you're not alone". _The words that at one time warmed her heart were infuriating and she just….snapped.

Sure he was back in her life for now, but what would happen the next time she got to close for his comfort? Joss simply didn't trust him. She didn't trust him to stick around and not cut her out of his life like he did before. It would be better for everyone involved if they kept their distance and saw each other only for professional reasons, and even then only when necessary.

Yet John, new John, had looked so defeated when she kicked him out that she almost, _almost,_ called him back. She had held on to her outrage though and looked away, using the pillows to muffle her sobs the moment the door closed behind him.

Joss was craving the comfort he freely offered that night; but she was also spoiling for a fight, and if he had stayed that's exactly what would have happened. It was past time to clear the air between them, but anything he might have said wouldn't have penetrated the bitterness she had cloaked herself in.

His name had bubbled up in her throat but she balked at the last minute. What good would it do? She would have a difficult time believing anything he had to say, and his relationship with Zoe wasn't any of her business. They were merely friends now and she had vowed to forget about the last six months and just move on.

That next morning she had awakened to find him back at his post beside her bed, watching the news with the captions on. He was the first to break the silence:

"_Good morning." John grabbed a small cup of coffee off the nightstand and held it out to her. "I thought you could use this."_

_Joss cautiously returned his greeting and saluted him with the Styrofoam container in thanks before taking a healthy sip. _

"_Joss about last night," he said in a rush, as though he couldn't hold in the words a second longer. "I'm sorry if I said anything out of line."_

_To say she was shocked was an understatement. John Reese never asked permission for anything and never apologized - although that too seemed to be another new pattern for them of late._

_She interrupted his apology and astonished herself by gripping his clasped hands for a brief second._

"_I'm sorry too John."_

_The tips of his ears reddened and he moved to interlace their fingers, but Joss broke the contact. No, they weren't going to start that again. That John Reese confused her, he lured her into trusting him and she would need all of her faculties intact to deal with this._

_Joss smiled brightly to lessen the sting of her rebuff and supplemented her apology. "I said some things that were out of line too. The day just caught up with me I guess."_

"_You've been through a lot this week Carter. You're entitled to a bad day." If he was hurt by her rejection, he didn't let it show through his neutral expression._

"_Thanks for your permission John." Joss wrinkled her nose in his direction to counteract the animosity she couldn't keep out of her tone._

_He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and hold his own coffee with both hands. "When you're ready to get out of here smarty pants, just say the word."_

"_I can go home?"_

_She had asked to leave for days and now she was finally free? Joss surveyed her room and noticed for the first time her suitcase and two plastic bags stowed by the door. Surely Dr. Pearson hadn't come by already; and where was Taylor and her mom?_

"_You know, it's not nice to tease me like this John."_

"_When have I ever teased you Joss?"_

_She didn't dignify that with a response, but rolled her eyes and hid her sneer behind another sip of coffee._

"_Dr. Pearson came by earlier with these -" he dug into his jacket pocket to pull out several sheets of folded sky-blue paper, "on her way to an emergency page."_

_Joss snatched them out of his hands and focused on the words that guaranteed her release._

"_You were snoring - I mean sleeping -" he quickly corrected, "- so soundly that she didn't want to wake you. I promised her I would make sure you followed her orders to the letter." _

_John took one last gulp from his cup and pitched it into the trash can in the corner of the room._

"_Great, more of your 'do as I say, not as I do' routine,__" she laughed while placing her own drink on the nightstand and baring her legs to the chilled morning air. _

_John got to his feet when she hopped out of bed and took two wobbly steps forward. Joss felt his strong hands wrap around her waist to hold her against him until she was steady on her feet._

"_You okay?" he murmured against her ear. _

_No, not really. The room was starting to tilt again and it had more to do with the way his breath rushed across her skin than any lingering effects of her concussion. Joss closed her eyes and allowed herself to lean against his solid chest for a few seconds before she shyly extracted herself from his arms._

"_Yeah. I'm good. I'm just gonna, um, get changed" She discreetly tugged her top down where it had ridden up and stepped towards her suitcase to find a fresh set of clothes._

"_Here, you can wear these." John motioned to a pair of dark gray track pants and maroon sweatshirt two sizes too big._

_Joss accepted the small bundle laying at the foot of her bed and ducked into the bathroom to change._

_By the time she re-emerged ten minutes later, Finch was standing in her room along with Beth, wheelchair in hand, waiting to take her downstairs. Joss was so excited to leave she would have ridden backwards on a unicycle waving sparklers in each hand if that's what it took. They passed by the nurses station where she was able to say goodbye and thank them all one last time._

_Outside the cold morning air was invigorating as it swept across her cheeks to weave through her hair. The weak winter sunshine glinting off the freshly plowed roads penetrated her layers of clothing to warm her thoroughly. If she thought she could get away with it, Joss would have sprinted down the snow-covered sidewalk, arms raised in celebration. _

_Beth jarred the idea from her mind with one final hug before she helped her settle into the back seat. Finch sat beside her as John carefully drove them through early morning traffic that seemed lighter than usual. Joss watched the people hustling by for several quiet minutes, soaking in the sights and sounds of her city before she got down to business._

"_Where are we on the case?" She met John's eyes in the rearview mirror. He had to know she was going to ask, so there was no need to clench his jaw so tight._

_Neither man answered her at first, and Joss was afraid they were going to stonewall her out of her own case. She opened her mouth to give them a rather large piece of her mind when Harold spoke up._

"_Unfortunately we haven't gotten very far Joss." _

"_Finch," John snapped a warning at his employer. _

"_Mr. Wetherby's autopsy is scheduled for later this morning," he continued either not hearing or not caring about John's admonition. "I plan to observe, unobtrusively of course."_

"_Observe? You mean your going to hack into the ME's office?" Joss worried her bottom lip between her teeth as she turned back to the window to watch pedestrians file past._

_It wasn't his illegal methods that bothered her this time, it that she wasn't bothered by it. How much of a hypocrite did that make her? She didn't mind if Harold and John broke the law to catch her attacker, but for other people they had play by the rules?_

"_I'm just another pair of eyes to make sure everything is done above-board."_

_When had things gotten so bad that she trusted a paranoid billionaire over the rule of law?_

"_I won't interfere Joss, you have my word." His owlish eyes locked on hers, sincerity and understanding there. But how could Finch possibly understand what this decision would cost her?_

_Joss nodded her agreement. There was honestly no other way. Outside of Fusco, these two men were the only other people she trusted._

"_Thank you Harold." _

_That soft 'thank you' covered more than her gratefulness for their help in tracking down the truth. She was really saying: 'thank you for helping me after all the grief I've given you', 'thank you for not laughing in my face and telling me to kiss your rich __white ass'. _

_Either man could easily point out her previous unwillingness to take part in their less than lawful activities and refuse to bend the rules for her now. They could have called her on her sudden change of heart, but they both seemed happier just to have her on board for a change._

_Twenty silent minutes later they arrived at her modest apartment. John shouldered her things with ease before she even got out of the car, and turned her down each time she offered to take them from him. _

_Joss led the way up the stairs with John hovering behind her and Finch bringing up the rear. She half expected him to toss her over his other shoulder at any moment; but he let her move at her own pace, which was decidedly slower than usual._

_They made it to her door and she automatically patted her pockets for her keys, only to remember she did not have one. Was it in one of the plastic bags the hospital sent home with her, or had it been lost at the crime scene? Before she could even form the question, John fished out his spare key, the one she had given him last year after he broke in to her apartment through her third floor bedroom window. _

_He stepped aside to let her in first, but she only made it about ten feet before Taylor and her mom ran to meet her with shouts and hugs that lifted her feet off the ground and made her ribs ache. The exuberant pair invited Reese and Finch inside while they propelled her into the living room where several of her neighbors had gathered to welcome her home as well._

_Neither man stayed too long, although Joss sensed John was hesitant to leave. She wouldn't lie and say she didn't feel the same - which had to make her the dumbest woman alive._

_Out of the corner of her eye Joss noticed the two saying goodbye to Taylor and edging towards the door. She excused herself from her conversation with Mrs. Campbell, the elderly lady who lived across the hall, to walk them out. _

_Her quick hug flustered Finch, but he promised to drop by with Bear soon. _

"_I'll be out in the car," he mentioned to John, then limped down the stairs leaving them alone in the entry hall. _

_"How does it feel to be back home Joss?" She smiled up at him, trying her darndest not to notice how close he stood or the hand brushing against hers with every slight sway of his body._

_"A little strange actually, like I've been away for months and not days." John nodded with an understanding twist to his lips. _

_"But," Joss breathed in the comforting scents of home and glanced around at her teal colored walls and the cheery flower arrangement on her entry table, before meeting his gaze again, "it's pretty wonderful." _

"_Good." He returned her grin, this one full of pleasure that brought out the laugh lines at the corner of his eyes. "Will you be alright?"_

_Joss peeked into the living room where she could see the edge of a homemade 'welcome home' banner draped across the kitchen's archway. The clink of coffee mugs and light conversation drifted to their semi private spot. _

"_I'll be fine John. My mom decided to move in for the time being, so I'll have a chaperone." Joss rolled her eyes at that last word before she could squash the childish impulse. _

_She was less than pleased with the arrangement, but the following week her mom was scheduled to set sail on a two-week cruise with the women in her Thursday evening book club. Sofia Daniels was going to be on that ship even if Joss had to carry her up the gangplank herself; and as soon as the boat left the dock she was heading back to work to track down whoever was after her._

_"That's too bad," John murmured. "I wanted that job."_

_Ah hell, 'new John' was back. Her first instinct was naturally to flirt back, one-up him, but she couldn't, she needed to put her foot down - firmly._

'_New Joss' didn't get the chance to establish any boundaries with John before he captured her hand with a wink and pressed a bulky object against her palm. Joss looked down to see the black burner phone she had left locked-up in her desk drawer that night._

_"Call me Joss - whenever you need me." Her gaze flew back to his, and she watched all traces of flirtatious banter vanish. "I don't care where you are or what time it is."_

_Her objections must have been written across her face because John grew more insistent, pressing her for the answer he wanted. _

"_Promise me Joss." His grip on her hand tightened, the black plastic casing of the phone grinding against her fingertips. _

_Joss shook her head. Calling him would only lead to complications that she could not afford in her life right now._

"_I'll be fine John. I don't need -"_

"_Damn it Joss! Please don't fight me on this." He lowered his voice when Taylor and another neighbor walked past the opening to her living room a few feet away. Apparently she wasn't the only one who had forgotten there was a crowd of people in the next room. _

_That's what always happened to them. They would get so caught up in each other they forgot anyone else was around. People, places, circumstances all faded into the background while they fought, worked, brainstormed, bantered, or comforted._

"_Someone almost succeeded in killing you Joss. I won't give them a second chance." _

"_John, you can't keep -"_

_Again he cut her off, this time pulling her to him by the hand still wrapped around hers and the cell phone._

"_I know this won't change anything, but you should know, whether you like me right now or not Joss, you are not in this alone."_

_Hearing those harshly whispered words again took her back to that alleyway where she was lying on her back with two bullets burrowing further into her Kevlar with each searing gasp, certain she was about to die. John had stepped out of the shadows like an avenging angel just in time to take out Bottle Cap._

_How different things were now. He had not made it in time, but she had survived. She was learning to respect him back then and now she loved him; but their relationship was just beginning a year and a half ago and ending today._

_No, a phone call or two would not change things between them or solve their problems. At this point Joss wasn't sure what would; but it was refreshing to hear John acknowledge something was wrong between them._

"_I can't loose…" John sighed and looked away. "Just don't shut me out. Let me keep you safe." _

_She didn't see herself needing him for anything, but this was not the time to bring that up. John was not letting this go and she sensed he wouldn't leave as willingly as he had last night if she pushed him any further. Reluctantly Joss said the words she knew he needed to hear._

"_Okay John, I promise." _

_Satisfied with her answer, he bent to graze her cheek in a prolonged kiss that had her reaching for the lapels of his winter coat to keep him near. Her hands met with empty space as John turned without a word to jog down the stairs after Finch, leaving Joss to gawk at his retreating form with her mouth hanging open._

_She snapped her mouth shut and the door along with it. What did she need him for? She could handle this on her own. _

_John Reese would find out soon enough how much she didn't need him when he sat by the phone waiting for it to ring…_

But she had called him much to her chagrin - several times. Perhaps she wasn't as strong as she thought.

Her first night home she woke up around 2:00 am, drenched in sweat and shaking after another chilling dream. The burner phone sitting on her nightstand was the first thing she saw and she reached for it, automatically hitting the first name in her speed dial directory while she tried to catch her breath and calm down.

John had answered on the first ring, and sounded as though he had been asleep himself; but the minute she admitted to having another nightmare any trace of drowsiness disappeared. Joss had heard him shuffling around his apartment throwing on clothes while he promised her he was on his way. She had been sorely tempted to let him come over, but her good sense prevailed and she talked him in to staying put.

Cuddling with John on a snowy winters night in the cozy, familiar, confines of her bedroom would have been too much, even knowing that Taylor and her mom were right down the hall. She was certain the intimacy would have pushed her into doing something foolish like begging him to kiss her, or spilling the beans about being in love with him.

Joss swore it wouldn't happen again after that, but when the house grew quiet in the dark early morning hours, and everyone else was asleep, she found herself reaching out to him. Some nights she tossed and turned, worry smothering her with every minute that ticked by. Other nights she was rocked by nightmares that were more like memories coming back to haunt her; and she needed to hear his voice.

Not surprisingly John was true to his word, like she knew he would be, but was afraid to trust in. If she didn't call him, John was calling her; and he made time for her whether he was running around the city, sitting somewhere on a stake out, eating a late dinner or in bed himself.

Those conversations were the hardest for Joss. Her imagination ran wild with images of him propped up against his dark mahogany headboard, naked and only a sheet covering the lower half of his body. And the way he spoke to her - in that deep husky tone of his that soothed her and released swarms of butterflies deep in her belly - definitely did not help matters.

_"Enough daydreaming Joss." _She mentally slapped those memories away and stepped into her kitchen. The least she could do was help out with dinner and keep her mind busy.

"Mmm, something sure smells good in here!" she exclaimed before snickering at the scene in front of her.

Taylor, bless his heart, was standing in front of their well used stove, sandwiched between his grandmother and her sister, Cecilia, wearing a 'hail to the chef' apron and looking downright miserable. Her poor baby. He loved to eat, but the joys of cooking were completely lost on him.

"Anything I can do to help?" she asked while filching a thinly sliced carrot from the vegetable tray on the counter.

"Thank you darlin', that's the sauce for my famous bread pudding you're appreciating."

"I think she meant my apple stuffed pork loin CeCe." Her mom smiled at her then turned back to face her sister with a scowl.

"No, when the girl said she smelled something good her eyes were looking at my dessert on the counter, not the oven." Her aunt returned the glare with a flip of her iron-grey hair over one slender shoulder.

"Which was it Jocelyn?" Her mom and aunt both stared at her expectantly. Taylor was no help either, cocking his head to the side and lifting his eyebrows with a similar look that all but dared her to answer truthfully. Or was he hoping she would divert attention from him so he could make a break for it?

Joss just smiled at her family, stuffed another carrot into her mouth, and pretended to talk around the mouthful.

"Even if it was that stale old bread, you're using the recipe _I_ gave you." Sofia relented as she swatted her daughter's hands away from sneaking a stalk of celery off the crystal platter. "Now go on baby girl. You're a guest of honor tonight."

"Recipe _you_ gave me? Don't be silly Sofia, I distinctly remember Mama teaching me to make her bread pudding and rum sauce when I was a newly married woman."

"Which time?" Sofia shot back, leaning across her cringing grandson to wag a large kitchen knife at her older sibling.

"I'll have you know that -"

"Ladies please!" Taylor cried, raising the wooden spoon he was using to stir the sauce…splattering scalding drops on the counter's backsplash and his elders.

Both women stopped their dinner preparations and turned on him with raised brows.

Uh-oh. Her son had done it now. The sisters honestly couldn't help themselves, they loved their good-natured 'arguments' and teased each other every chance they got. Taylor, as an only child, didn't understand it at all and it drove him nuts - especially when he got caught in the middle of it.

Normally Joss would intervene and rescue her only child's hide, but tonight she didn't feel like it. He had brought this on himself and would now have to suffer the consequences. She was saved from arbitration duties when her doorbell announced the arrival of their first guest.

Try as she might, Joss couldn't disguise her laughter when one woman pinched Taylor's cheeks and planted a loud smack on the reddened skin while the other squeezed him so tight around the middle his eyes bulged. Hopefully he would still be in one piece when she came back.

"Grandma, Aunt CeCe please, I'm going to break!" he yelped.

"I'll just go get the door." Her mom and aunt were too busy tormenting her son to respond so she wiggled her fingers in Taylor's direction and backed out of the kitchen.

"Mom! Take me with you!" Taylor pleaded while the women continued to roughly shower him with affection.

Joss chuckled all the way to front hall, forgetting her nerves for a moment, and opened the door to find Harold and John with Bear sitting at attention between them, tail wagging happily.

So that was the guest John was bringing, not the other dog she thought he was going to invite. She kept her cheerful grin in place and drew one from each member of the trio as they made their way inside.

Harold was the first across the threshold and he gave her an awkward on armed hug. "You look lovely Detective. I'm glad to see you up and moving around."

"Joss remember? That hasn't changed Harold, and thank you, I'm feeling better every day."

He nodded and moved aside at Bear's insistent nudging. The dog stopped directly in front of her and patiently waited for Joss to dole out his required doses of scratches behind the ear and mushy baby talk. She willingly obliged and raked her fingers through his thick fur while telling him how much she had missed him.

Bear blinked up at her with such unadulterated affection Joss was certain he understood every word she said even if it was in English instead of Dutch. He seemed content to sit there and soak in her coddling for the rest of the evening, but John's quietly uttered "_Bear, doorlopen"_ sent him bounding into the living room after Harold.

Joss glanced up to greet her last guest, but her tongue tripped over itself at her first sight of John in over a week. The man was always devastatingly handsome under normal circumstances, but tonight, even with fatigue rimming his mercurial blue eyes, John looked down right sinful.

"Did you miss me too Joss?" he murmured in her ear once she was pressed up against him in a bear hug.

Of course she missed him, but John didn't need to know that. Instead of answering she took advantage of the unexpected opportunity and melted against him. Joss breathed in his clean yet subtle cologne and swore she felt his arms tighten around her before he stepped back to peer at something over her shoulder.

Oh wow. She had underestimated those two old ladies, and where in the world had they dug up a chef's hat?

Her son made quite the sight with the puffy white hat sitting crookedly on his head, tender cheeks covered in crimson and mauve lip prints, and a sauce stained apron still tied to his waist. The three adults couldn't contain their quiet laughter, but Taylor either didn't notice or didn't care.

"What's up Mr. Finch? John?" The curt nod he gave both men only served to knock his hat further askew and bring on another round of smiles.

"Mom, you've got to talk to those women," he urged her in a stage whisper. Taylor finally yanked the offending headwear off and shook it in the general direction of the kitchen. Joss' hand flew up to her mouth to cover her wide grin at his obvious disgust. "They're out of control!"

"You're on your own T." Joss chuckled again, but this time it was a nervous laugh due to John's body heat seeping through the thin material of her dress. He was standing so close her back was all but resting on his chest.

"Bear my man!" Taylor finally noticed the dog pawing at his legs. "_Gaan, aanval!"_

The confused Malinois snapped his head around to look at John for confirmation before deciding on his own to ignore her son's attack order.

"Your pronunciation needs a little work Taylor."

Each word vibrated through her producing a fluttering sensation in her belly that had nothing to do with her son's new 'studies'. Joss turned to frown at him over her shoulder, but that only made matters worse.

"Not that you should be learning Dutch attack commands in the first place," he amended and the wink he sent her way had her whipping back around to face her son.

"Taylor," her aunt called out from the kitchen. "You're letting this sauce bubble too much young man.

"Mom, please, I can't go back in there." Taylor turned desperate eyes on her and begged for relief.

"Perhaps they won't be so vicious if I were to accompany you?" Finch suggested. "I need a place to put this." He lifted the pricey bottle of wine in his hands.

"I don't know Mr. Finch. Get ready to have your cheeks pinched just in case." Harold raised his brows at the thought and followed Taylor back into the lion's den.

Bear plodded along behind them, nose working overtime to hunt down any little scrap that might have accidentally found its way to the floor.

Joss heard Taylor introduce Finch to her aunt in the silence that had descended over the living room. She ought to move, start her hostess duties, do something; but she was exceedingly comfortable right where she was. Joss closed her eyes for a split second, praying for strength as John's hand found her hip again. He tenderly stroked her flesh just below the small braided belt, changing the fluttering she felt earlier into fiery tingles.

"_John don't." _

The words were on the tip of her tongue and she shifted in his arms to tell him just that but stopped short. Bad, bad idea. If she faced him now she would be reminded of just how very sexy he was in his jet black dress shirt and dark gray slacks. Any intentions she had of putting distance between them would fly right out the window; but she needed to do something - fast.

"You look beautiful tonight Joss."

The trace of awe in his voice made it seem as if he was noticing her for the first time. John gripped her shoulders and turned her until she faced him fully, the dress' silky material sifting through his fingertips. The feel of his hot hands and the cool fabric playing across her skin as John fingered the split running down both sleeves was a fascinating contrast.

"_Oh crap!"_ Joss recognized the hungry look that crossed his features, but she never thought it would be directed at her. Was John really going to try to kiss her now? More importantly, what was she going to do about it?

She had fantasized about this moment, wanted it desperately, but now after Zoe, and everything that had happened in between she would be a fool to allow it. Her eyes drifted closed when his hands dropped to her waist and pulled her flush against him.

"J-John." God, how was she going to convince him to stop if she couldn't keep the shakiness out of her voice? Joss swallowed around her suddenly dry throat and took a fortifying breath before trying again. "John wait, we ca -"

Mercifully the doorbell rang out with the arrival of the next guest, but she wasn't sure it had registered with John.

"Jocelyn, can you get that please?" Her mom's voice penetrated the fog that had enveloped them the moment John touched her.

Damn it, she was so completely focused on the man in front of her that anyone could have walked in and caught them. Joss slid her hands down John's chest until they hung limply at her side.

"I need to get that," she said quietly and made a move towards the door, but John held her firmly in place.

"We need to talk first," he insisted.

"_Now he wants to talk?" _The man had some nerve and exceptionally bad timing. The time to talk would have been months ago when he was busy freezing her out and hooking up with Zoe Morgan.

And why was he acting like this now? If it was some weird reaction to her near death experience or some misplaced guilt, he could keep that to himself, she was through playing this game.

"Too late for that." He was already shaking his head, ready to argue when the doorbell sounded again.

"Baby girl are you alright in there?" This time Aunt CeCe was asking and it sounded like she was on the move.

"Yes ma'am, I've got it." She risked a glance at John and saw the resignation in his darkening gaze. She had won a reprieve - for now - but he was entirely too persistent when his mind was set on something.

John's hands tightened on her hips for an instant and his irritated huff skimmed her lips, but he let her go.

"_Son of a bitch!" _Maybe she needed to go on that cruise tomorrow instead of her mom.

Joss stepped around John, her shoulder grazing his upper arm as she brushed past him to let the next visitor in. She prayed silently that her partner and his date were the ones standing out in the hallway and not Adam. She didn't want to face him with this heated flush still burning through her body.

"_Definitely not Fusco,"_ was the first thought that ran through her mind when she opened the door. No it was Adam Orsini filling up her doorway, looking hotter than she remembered in a charcoal grey suit with a royal purple button down shirt underneath.

Thank goodness she had opted not to wear a long-sleeved dress tonight. Things were starting to heat up in her small apartment.

"Wow," Adam let out a soft whistle. His eyes warmed to a deep jade as they carefully inspected her from head to toe. "You look gorgeous Joss."

"Thank you. You are looking very dapper yourself Mr. Orsini." With any luck he would think he was the cause of her breathlessness - and he was in part.

"These are for you." From behind his back he produced a bouquet of roses, a mix of fiery orange, cool lavender, and joyful pink.

"They're lovely Adam, thank you," Joss ducked her nose into the middle of one elegant bloom to breath in the heady scent.

Adam drew her in a tight hug, but stiffened against her almost immediately. She knew without having to turn around what had snagged his attention. They separated and Joss forged ahead with the introductions, meeting John's steady gaze head on.

"Adam," she cleared her throat. "This is a good friend of mine, Marshal John Jennings."

"_You started it mister," _she silently conveyed with a lift of her brow when she caught the surprise flickering across his detached mask he wore. He used that persona when it suited his needs so why couldn't she?

"John, this is Adam Orsini, with the Fire Department."

How much more should she say? She knew John carried around more than his fair share of guilt for not rescuing her himself that night, and as frustrated as she was with him, she didn't want to add to that.

The men cordially shook hands, but her mom saved her from having to say anything else when she ran out of the kitchen.

"There's the man of the hour," she bustled over, dragging her sister behind. "Cecilia. This is Adam, the man who rescued our Jocelyn."

"_That's_ him?" Cecilia adjusted her rhinestone accented glasses and stared him up and down. "I see what you mean Sofie…he'll do."

"Do?" Adam murmured to Joss in confusion.

"You'll have to forgive my mother and her sister Adam. They seem to have forgotten their _manners_." Joss emphasized the last word to the two crazy women, but it didn't faze them in the least. Like every other woman in New York City, they were far too busy ogling every inch of him.

"Aunt Cecilia," Joss raised her voice to get her attention, "this is Adam Orsini of the Fire Department. Adam, this is my aunt, Cecilia Day."

"My older sister." Sofia chimed in.

"Older yes, but more experienced," Aunt CeCe tacked on.

"You have got to be kidding," Joss muttered under her breath. Adam picked up on that and squeezed her shoulder before responding.

"It's my pleasure Ms. Day." He bent to kiss her proffered hand. "And might I say that I can see which side of the family Joss gets her stunning beauty from."

That earned him a round of bashful giggles, but out of the corner of her eye Joss watched John turn away.

"I see why you're falling for him dear." Cecilia meant for that comment to be confidential, but everyone clearly heard her in the quiet apartment.

"Aunt CeCe," she snapped her eyes closed, eschewing the freedom older women enjoyed of saying whatever the hell they wanted when ever they wanted.

The woman didn't pay her any mind since she noticed the other good-looking guest about to walk out of the room.

"Hello, I don't believe we've been introduced. Cecilia Day."

John returned her smile and shook her hand. "John Jennings," he lied smoothly although Finch and her mom wrinkled their brows at the name.

"Now this is what I call a party. Are there any more handsome guests coming?"

"_Well those hormone replacement pills are definitely working."_ Watching her aunt rub her hands together in excitement, Joss wondered if she wasn't on the hunt for husband number four.

"Detective Fusco isn't here yet." Taylor piped up. Joss's throat hurt at the effort she exerted to keep her laughter from bursting out.

"Jennings?" her mom broke in with a perplexed tone "I thought you said your last name was Reese."

"_What the hell?" _The man had given her mom his 'real' last name?

"I was undercover at the time," John ventured, realizing he was busted.

"_For Pete's sake! Why not just come out and tell the woman that you lied?" _

Who did John think he was going to fool with a pathetic excuse like that?

"Oh so you're a police officer too John?" Aunt Cecilia scooted closer to him and flipped a few maroon striped locks of hair over her shoulder.

"United States Marshal actually," he conceded.

"_Don't feed into the craziness John,"_ she silently begged him; but as usual her warnings went unheeded.

"So you're with the Marshal's office too Mr. Finch?" Sofia's gaze narrowed in on the presumed dead billionaire.

Uh-oh, her mom had picked up on discrepancies in their stories. She needed to throw her off the trail fast.

Surprisingly Harold spoke up first. "Mostly in a consulting capacity."

"My you do keep busy," Sofia murmured still puzzling over the slip up.

"Yes well." Finch shrugged and reached down to pet Bear instead of digging the hole any deeper. Joss jumped in to make the introductions between Adam, Harold and Bear.

Silence reigned for several heartbeats before the last few guests arrived: her next door neighbor, Mrs. Campbell, Fusco and his date for the evening, Rhonda.

Lionel nodded to everyone and was introducing Rhonda to the group when the oven timer buzzed. Her mom, dragging her sister away from John, advised that dinner would be ready shortly.

Taylor carefully avoided his grandma's gaze as he snuck over to Adam and struck up a conversation about admission requirements for the fire academy. Joss wanted to hear the rest of that discussion, but was drawn into a hug by Rhonda.

"I'm so glad you're doing okay Detective Carter. I was so worried when I saw the report on the news." She pulled back with a bashful smile. Joss had met Lionel's girlfriend a few times over the last six months and was always put at ease by her gentle manner. As long as she didn't break her partner's heart Rhonda was okay with her.

"It's Joss, Rhonda," she squeezed the woman's shoulder. "And thank you, I am too."

Her mom brought out the platter with the main course and declared dinner was served. Everyone started to make their way to the table, but she insisted Adam and Joss sit next to each other.

Adam held out his arm and Joss wrapped her hand around as much of his bulky bicep as she could before waltzing into the dining room with him. She chanced a quick glance behind her and saw Taylor falling in line behind them with her mom on his arm. Finch was slowly hobbling along with Mrs. Campbell while John was slotted to escort Cecilia to the table.

"_Well, it could be worse," _she thought as Adam pulled out her chair. _"He could have brought Zoe."_

* * *

Coming to Sofia's dinner party was a colossal mistake.

John choked down the last bite on his plate and forced himself to focus on Cecilia and Sofia who were keeping the entire table entertained with wild stories of their rowdier days. The meal was probably delicious, a feast fit for a king, but to him it tasted like cardboard. All John could focus on was that man who was touching his Joss.

Adam, seated directly across from him had his arm stretched out across the back of her chair, his thumb brushing against her injured shoulder in slow, tender strokes. Joss, for her part, appeared to be enjoying his caress. She had abandoned the rest of her dessert to lean in to Adam's side while she added her own memories and embellishment to their tales.

What was next? Rubbing noses and making up disgusting pet names for each other like 'snookey ookums' and 'snuggly wuggly bear'? Slurping down the same long strand of spaghetti until they met at the middle in some sickeningly sweet _'Lady and the Tramp' _kiss?

John glanced at the smiling couple again and noticed that Adam's thumb had dipped under the material of her dress to glide across Joss' bare skin.

He was going to break that thumb.

Being forced to watch the love birds canoodle wasn't the worst part of the evening though. No, that honor went to his catastrophic attempt to kiss Joss the first second they were alone.

What had he been thinking?

There was no thinking involved honestly. It was the sight of her in that damn dress that did him in. He had seen her wear a dress a handful of times before, but this - he was enchanted from the moment she welcomed him into her apartment tonight. The reddish, orangish color brought out the incandescent warmth of her skin and gave him the perfect view of her sexy legs, bare from mid-thigh down.

Joss looked healthy, relaxed, more like her old self yet…better, which made no sense to him at all. But watching her across the table again, John was amazed at how blind he had been to what was right in front of him all along. Adam, damn him, was right when he called her gorgeous. Joss was so vibrant and full of life he couldn't help but be drawn to her. She was breathtaking and he…

He wanted her. He was in no way deserving of her, but he wanted her all the same.

John had spent the last seven days telling himself that these feelings he had for her, the ones that started simmering after that first night in the hospital, would fade once things got back to normal and the danger had passed; but he was never more wrong. If anything they were growing stronger, perilously close to blazing out of control, and that terrified him.

There was no point in denying that he was attracted to her; but this was moving beyond just the physical now. Jocelyn Carter was unlike any woman he had ever met - alluring, intelligent, compassionate, witty, bold, courageous - and she was driving him crazy.

His desire to protect her never wavered, but now there were added dimensions to his feelings for Joss. He wanted to share more himself with her, the man he was under the all the masks he wore to shield what was left of his heart. He needed her to know that he wasn't just some aloof smart ass who kept everyone at arm's length because he didn't care.

At the most inopportune times, John found himself thinking of all the things he would tell her if he ever got the chance. He wanted to share his past, his dreams, fears, and everything in between; and he wanted Joss to feel free to do the same.

John also wanted to be the reason for her stunning smile for a change, which led to hours of daydreaming about all the ways he would achieve that goal. Embarrassingly Finch caught him in the library yesterday staring out the window in the middle of a particularly pleasurable brainstorming session. Harold didn't say anything, but John was sure he'd noticed how distracted he'd become since the attack on Carter.

When he wasn't working her case or saving the numbers that eventually came in, John was thinking about Joss - hell she stayed with him even when he was distracted with work. Her laughter that brightened his sepia toned life, the feel of her generous curves in his arms, the electric jolt when his mouth had brushed against hers a week ago - it all haunted him this past week, making him question everything he thought he had figured out.

Their late night phone calls had become the highlight of his day, and John checked his phone often to make sure he had not missed her. He had given her the burner back in hopes she would call him, and she had that very night when another nightmare woke her up.

The breathless panic he heard on the other end of the line had cleared the sleep from his brain in an instant and he was half-dressed before she convinced him not to come over. Grudgingly he had slumped back against his pillows and focused all of his efforts on her.

John had walked her through the details of her bad dream, noting the new information she had remembered, and promising her to find the man responsible - sooner rather than later.

He had clenched his fists against the longing to hold her and ease her back to sleep, and in the quiet darkness of his loft he had boldly told her as much.

"_I wish I was there to help you through this Joss." John tightened his grip around the plush navy sheets, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice._

"_I wish you were too," was her soft response and it was enough to do him in._

_"I can be there in ten minutes." The pause on the other end had him reaching for his SIG and motorcycle keys before she finally answered him._

"_No John wait. You can't, my mom's still here." _

_The day he couldn't sneak past a sixty year old woman was the day he hung up his hat as the Man in the Suit. _

"_Don't worry about your mom, she won't even know I'm there." _

_That got a laugh out of her and he basked in the sound for a second._

"_It's okay John. I appreciate the offer, but I'll be fine - I promise. Talking to you has really helped…thank you."_

"_I'll always be here for you Joss, but I want to do more than talk." He took a bracing breath and plunged ahead before he could reconsider what he was about to say. "I want to hold you and chase the nightmares away."_

_Only the gentle rush of her breathing on the other end told him she hadn't hung up. He was beginning to worry that he had been too direct with his feelings, and John was about to issue an apology he didn't really feel when she spoke up._

"_I - God, John, if only you knew; but I can't…just…keep talking to me? Please?" _

He couldn't deny her anything, especially not when she sounded so fragile and close to tears, so he squashed down his own needs and made good on his promise to be there for her. They talked about anything and everything that popped into their minds - the best and worst Super Bowl commercials, pancakes vs. French toast, Taylor's plans for the future, their favorite _'Seinfeld' _episodes, and how glad he was that she had decided to get rid of her bangs.

Two hours later her words became slurred and her breathing evened out. John stayed on the phone until he heard her soft snores then disconnected and fell into a restless sleep himself. It came as no surprise that his dreams were filled with Joss, although they were far from innocent.

After that night they took turns calling each other, and it didn't matter what he was doing, he answered. His favorite calls were when she caught him in bed, freshly showered, relaxed and waiting for her. John could picture Joss lounging in her own bed after a long hot bath in nothing but a skimpy pair of shorts and a t-shirt, her face awash with happiness.

Jocelyn Marie Carter was in his system, she was a part of him and damned if he knew how it had happened. Initially he assumed his feelings were born out of guilt over how he treated her after Rikers, and the fear of nearly losing her - and of course the drug induced "I love you". But honestly they had probably been there all along and he was just now aware of them.

John was becoming accustomed to the rush of affection and desire that flooded him when he thought about Joss, when he was around her, or even heard her name mentioned in passing. The emotions didn't freak him out anymore - well not as much as they had at fist.

Standing in the hallway outside her room that night, listening to her cry herself to sleep, John realized Joss needed more from him than empty promises he could easily break if things got too heavy again. His silence over the last six weeks had torn apart the trust their friendship was built on; and now Joss needed more than his word, she needed him to back them up with actions. He had to show her that he was sticking around, that she could count on him.

Laughter rippled around the table jerking him back to the present.

"Yes ma'am," Taylor said as he stood and began collecting plates from the guests as his grandmother had apparently asked.

"Would anyone like more coffee? Mr. Finch? Marshal?" Sofia offered with a lift of the silver urn.

He was beginning to regret ever using that title.

Both he and Finch declined, and stood when Rhonda pushed back from the table the same time Fusco did.

"I'm afraid we're gonna to have to get going," Lionel told his hostess as he handed Taylor his empty dishes. "Gotta pick up Lee from the sitters."

"I must depart as well. I have an early meeting tomorrow morning." John knew Finch's 'I' meant 'we', and judging by Joss' curious stare she understood too.

"On a Saturday?" Sofia questioned.

"Crime rarely takes a weekend off Ms. Sofia."

She accepted that with a shake of her head, and the other guests at the table started to rise as well. John pulled out Cecilia's chair and gripped the wood until his knuckles turned white when he saw Adam do the same for Joss, bending to whisper something in her ear that had her blushing furiously.

Yup, as much as he hated to admit it, it was time for him to leave too. Watching another man hit on his wom - uh friend - and watching her seemingly enjoy it even though she'd confessed her love for him only a week ago, was not an enjoyable way to spend the evening.

"I should be going as well," he told Sofia as they reached the living room. "I'm on call at the office this week."

Joss, still clinging to Adam's arm, smirked at his excuse.

"That's too bad Marshal Jennings. I'm so glad you were able to have dinner with us tonight though."

"Please, call me John; and I wouldn't have missed it Mrs. Daniels."

He wanted a moment alone with Joss before he left, but it didn't look like Adam would be budging from her side any time soon.

John bid the two sisters and Taylor goodnight before he shrugged into his dark wool coat. Finch, Lionel, and Rhonda had made the rounds already and were gathering in the hallway to wait for him.

"Adam," John decided he would be the bigger man. "It was nice to meet you."

The firefighter rose from the couch with an outstretched hand and looked him square in the eye, taking his measure every bit as much as John was his. He shook Adam's hand, returning the fierce grip with one of his own.

He could crush the man should the need arise, John decided. If Joss so much as shed a tear over this guy, he would be hearing from the Man in the Suit. It would take several blows and Adam would give him a close contest, but he was confident he would be the victor.

"You too John." Adam tilted his head to the side and shot him a wide grin. "Good luck out there."

"You too." John held the man's challenging stare a second longer then sauntered towards Joss who was walking her elderly neighbor out.

John waited a few minutes while Joss promised Mrs. Campbell she would stop by for coffee next week to help plan the community garden she wanted to start on the building's rooftop.

What would she do if he bent her over and gave her a toe curling kiss right here in front of everyone?

"Thanks for a lovely evening Carter," he told her when it was his turn.

He knew he shouldn't, but couldn't help himself and bent to kiss her cheek, perilously close to her lips.

"Thanks uh for coming John." Was she stammering because of him, or because Adam was lounging on her couch watching them with frank curiosity?

"Call me later Joss," he whispered for her ears only, then turned to join the trio outside.

* * *

"How about a cup of hot chocolate?" Joss offered as she and Adam stepped back inside her toasty apartment.

"I'd love some." Adam hung up his coat next to hers and brushed a few errant flakes from his dark curls. "The snow's really picking up out there."

Adam had insisted on going with her when she walked Aunt CeCe out to her car once she was ready to leave - which was only after another round of stories about her days as a NY Jets cheerleader. Her son would probably never be able to watch a football game the same way again.

Joss thought she would freeze to death standing on the curb waiting for the woman to let go of his arm and get behind the wheel, although pretending to slip on an icy patch on the sidewalk so she could squeeze him a little tighter was a nice touch. But Adam, bless his heart, was such a gentleman about the whole thing.

When they left to head down Taylor had hightailed it to his bedroom with a promise not to stay up too late playing video games, and her mom retired to the guest room to start packing her things. Tomorrow morning her book club friends were swinging by to pick her up on their way to the cruise line's pier. That meant she would finally be alone with Adam - something she had dreaded and anticipated all day.

Five minutes later they settled on her couch to watch the fat flakes drift down and trade stories of favorite snow day memories from their childhoods. It figured that his would involve saving the neighbors dog from falling through the thin ice of a pond they were playing near. The man must have been born with a superhero gene, although she suspected the kiss he'd received from the dog's sixteen year old owner was a bigger motivating factor for his ten-year old self.

She was quiet, lost in thoughts of her childish glee over what now symbolized extra work and exhaustion. Adam's next question surprised her, even though it shouldn't have given how the evening ended.

"So what's the story with you and Marshal Jennings?" He asked casually, but she sensed the underlying interest.

By sheer will, Joss swallowed her sip of hot chocolate instead of sputtering it back into her cup.

"The story?" She turned to face him, careful to keep her expression neutral.

Was it that obvious? Had she done something that revealed her feelings tonight? Because damn it she really was trying to move on.

"There's not much to tell. We've worked together on some high-profile cases ."

"Your 'Man in the Suit'," he guessed.

"_You have no idea." _Joss drained the last drop from her mug to keep her groan inaudible.

" I see you've done your homework." She was a little surprised Adam knew about the case, but flattered that he had taken the time to check her out.

Adam nodded and stretched his arm out a little farther along the back of the couch. "Let's just say you piqued my curiosity, Detective. Plus I never know when I might need a favor."

"A favor huh?" Joss set her empty mug on the low coffee table the same time he did, and hoped that was the end of that subject; but no such luck. He leaned back against the cushions and waited for her to finish what she was going to say before he interrupted with his sidebar.

Fine, she could do this with a straight face.

"But yeah, that's the one, he was assigned to our task force. He's an okay guy, a little moody at times; but I've got to admit he's been a helpful contact to have when I've needed a little assistance at the federal level."

Joss felt bad for lying to Adam, but what else could she do? And besides some of it was true, sort of.

"Fusco and I were assisting on a case that had a connection with an open investigation in the Marshal's office when -" she waved a hand towards her injured body - "this happened."

"And there's nothing going on between you and John?" Adam looked at her intently, and Joss realized her answer was important to him.

"No, there's nothing going on between Marshal Jennings and me." Her heart skipped a beat in protest, but she ignored it. There was nothing between them but friendship and even that was sketchy at the moment. That near kiss earlier was just …well she didn't know what the hell that was, but it didn't mean anything.

Adam gave her a wide grin, and turned his body further towards hers. "Good."

"Well, now that we've got that settled, I have a question for you Mr. Orsini."

"Ask away Detective, I'm an open book." He crossed his arms behind his head and raised his brows.

Joss watched the deep purple fabric stretch to accommodate his expanding muscles and forgot what exactly she was planning to ask him. The smug wink waiting for her when she met his twinkling eyes didn't help matters any.

"What, uh, what did you say to me after dinner tonight?"

She had no clue what he had whispered in her ear when he pulled her chair out for her, but his raspy voice and warm breath tickling her ear had sent heat rushing to her face.

"I was trying to find the right words to tell you how your dress is affecting me." He slowly lowered his arms, returning one to the back of the couch at just the right spot to allow his fingers to caress the nape of her neck.

"Oh? And how is it affecting you exactly?" If he was feeling the same stirrings she was they were in trouble.

"_Stai guidando di mi pazzo in questo vestito," _Adam murmured again. He toyed with a lock of hair that had escaped to coil against her throat before giving her the English translation. "Which means you're driving me crazy in that dress Jocelyn."

Joss shivered at his touch, enjoying it immensely, and the fine tremors didn't go unnoticed.

"Are you cold?" The words were innocent enough, but his rich voice turned the question into something decidedly more sensual. The knave knew exactly what he was doing to her, and he seemed proud of it.

Adam tugged the oatmeal colored chenille throw from the back of the sofa and draped it across her shoulders, simultaneously drawing her closer to him. "Better?"

"Much." Although the blanket had little to do with that.

"I guess I should let you get some sleep before our big day tomorrow."

That would be the sensible thing to do, but neither made a move to leave, content to snuggle on the couch in the soft light of the end table lamps and watch the snow flurries dance on the wind.

Adam tucked her loose tresses behind her ear but kept his palm there against her skin. Joss felt like she was on display under his intense green gaze, and the funny thing was, she didn't even try to hide; but rather allowed Adam to see it all - her strength and vulnerability, the desire and concern.

"Joss?"

"Hmmm?" She couldn't manage anything more, mesmerized by his full lips leaning closer until they were a hairsbreadth away from hers.

His cologne, a sensuous mixture of earthy scents and fresh citrus, befuddled her senses as he cradled her head between his large hands. Joss' eyes fluttered closed when he delicately brushed her lips with his once, twice before deepening the contact.

Adam's mouth was just like the rest of him, - firm yet incredibly soft, beautiful, and oh so talented. Joss tasted hints of vanilla, brown sugar and rich dark chocolate when her tongue brushed against his in slow exploration. She fisted his dress shirt to bring him closer to her…then pushed back with a start when a door down the hallway creaked open.

Damn, she forgot for a minute that they were not alone in her apartment.

Taylor popped into the living room right after she scooted a few inches back against the cushions; but his nosy stare didn't miss Adam's hand still wrapped around her shoulder or the loose curls she hastily shoved behind her ear.

Her son stopped short and eyed the two adults. "Hey guys, what's up?"

"Just talkin'." Joss tried to play it cool, but almost getting caught in a compromising position by her teenage son was foreign territory for her.

"Sure mom, but can I just say for the record that I'd get into trouble if you caught me 'talking' to a girl like that?" Taylor had the audacity to wink at her before he wandered into the kitchen.

The adults stared after him for a second, then turned to each other and broke into laughter. Joss felt giddy, tipsy, even though she had not had anything stronger than Aunt CeCe's rum sauce tonight.

"You've got a beautiful smile Jocelyn Carter." Adam reached up to trace the fullness of her lower lip with the pad of his thumb creating a dizzying friction.

Joss wanted to respond but the words her brain had ready to go couldn't find their way out.

The clink of silverware on her good china proceeded Taylor's return trip through the living room; and they both turned to watch him hustle through with a large bowl of bread pudding and an equally proportionate glass of milk.

"Good night Adam, I'm sure I'll be seeing you again soon." He waggled his brows then addressed her. "Mom, don't stay up too late - and try to behave."

"Good night T," she called after him, although what she really said was: _"Wait until all these witnesses are gone young man."_

Adam gripped her hand and pulled her up with him as he rose from the couch. He waited until she was steady on her feet, but didn't release her.

"He's right. I should go and let you get some sleep. We've got big plans tomorrow and I need you fully rested."

"Care to share those plans?" She had a general idea of where they were going, but he had been exasperatingly tight-lipped with the details.

"And ruin the surprise?" Adam shook his head and let her lead the way. Joss unlocked the door while he donned his black overcoat and scarf, then opened it slightly. He leaned against the frame to say goodnight.

"Thank you for a lovely evening Detective," he murmured.

Joss stepped closer to him. "I had a lot of fun," she matched his low tone. "We might have to do this again sometime."

Good grief! What had gotten into her? In general she didn't mind taking the initiative in relationships from time to time, but this…

"I'm glad my mom decided to go through with it," she finished.

"You mean this wasn't a 'family tradition'?" he asked in mock shock.

"Umm no," she chuckled softly thinking about the little white lie her mom had told when she issued Adam a second invitation. "Definitely not. You're not mad are you?" Joss peered up at him through the fringe of her lashes.

"No, not mad at all." He regarded her with a decidedly more serious expression. "She must see the same thing I do.

Joss felt his fingers slip under the blanket to trail lightly up and down her arm, stroking in idle patterns.

"Maybe," Joss agreed. There was no denying the connection they shared, but what more might come of it only time would tell. She tilted her head back to meet his confident stare.

Adam's hand skimmed up her shoulder to cup her cheek in his work roughened palm. Joss nuzzled into his caress, closing her eyes when she felt his lips drift across her cheek.

"Goodnight _bella_," his whispered endearment sent warm breath skittering over her ear that nudged her heart into beating a few paces faster.

"Goodnight," she choked out, surprised by the surge of emotions he evoked in her.

He ghosted his mouth along her jaw line and inhaled deeply before backing into the hallway.

"Lock up tight Wonder Woman." Joss read the concern hiding behind his teasing command.

"I will. Be careful on your way home."

After he left Joss closed the door and fell against it with a girlish sigh that wavered when confusion set in. Adam was a fantastic man, funny, smart, affectionate, easy on the eyes, and one hell of a kisser. He was a man who knew what he wanted and was not afraid to go after it, which meant he was coming after her.

Adam was not shackled to his past or hobbled by mistakes he had no way of correcting. Joss was excited about where their friendship was headed; but seeing John tonight, being in his arms and coming within inches of kissing him…

"Everything okay baby girl?"

"Huh?" When had her mom come out of her room? "Oh yeah, I'm fine Mama."

Joss pushed away from the door and collected the mugs off the coffee table.

"Just checking. I haven't seen that look in quite some time."

"There's no look." Joss bit her lips to reign in her goofy grin when she walked past her mom to drop the dishes in her sink. She was tired and keyed up about the dinner party, that's all. Nothing a good night's sleep couldn't cure.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I had you confused with my daughter, Jocelyn Marie Carter - beautiful woman, about 5'4", with long black hair and gorgeous brown eyes - last seen in this apartment being chased by two fine white men."

"Two?" she called from the kitchen. Points to mom for being so observant, but she wasn't going to open that can of worms. "Try zero."

"Jocelyn, if you believe that then your Aunt and I would be more than happy to take your place and teach you a thing or two."

"Eww, mom!"

Aunt Cecelia was by far the wilder of the two sisters, so Joss didn't know what to make of her mom's playful side. To her she was _mom, _the woman who always called her by her proper name, her rock after Greg died and she was suddenly a single mom, not a grown woman who had any interest in frivolous things like the complicated men in her daughter's life.

"What? All I'm saying is that back in my day we knew what to do with men like John and Adam."

Joss wiped her hands on a dish towel and joined her mom who was turning off the lights in the living room.

"Tell you what mom, let's see what you can do with Mr. Finch first and then I'll let you have a crack at John."

Sofia let out a whoop of laughter and hugged her around the shoulders as they stopped in front of the guest bedroom. "That poor man couldn't handle a woman like me."

"_Oh wow is it time to go to bed!" _Joss thought. She gave her mom a quick squeeze and headed to her own room.

Joss slipped off her heels with a sigh and started removing the remaining pins from her hair. Hmm, she must have lost a few during her couch time with Adam. She smiled at the thought and looked carefully at her reflection in the dresser mirror. Her mom was right, she did look different.

Happiness, that's what it was. It was subtle, but she could see it in the high color along her cheek bones, feel it in her facial muscles that were sore from smiling so much. She could get used to feeling like this.

Joss took off the rest of her jewelry and dropped her cell phone on top of the dresser to rummage through the drawers for clean pajamas, finding her favorites near the bottom - a pair of white cotton sleep shorts and a white long-sleeved top with the slogan "keep calm, I'm a princess" decorating the front in a loopy pink font.

She didn't particularly care for the nickname princess, but Taylor swore they didn't have one that said "keep calm, I'm a detective" when he was looking for her birthday present last year. Joss kept them of course because they were a gift from her little boy, but also because they were by far the most comfortable pair she owned - not that she would admit that to anyone.

Besides, with her stagnant love life who was going to see them?

Cold air seeping through the drafty spots around the windows attacked her bare legs when she emerged from her bathroom a few minutes later ready for bed. Joss hopped beneath the layers of covers and set her alarm clock for 8:00am. Adam was picking her up at 10:00am, but she wanted plenty of time to get ready.

She switched off the bedside lamp and eased onto her left side to hug the extra queen sized pillow close. It didn't take long for her to fall into a deep sleep, completely forgetting to call John Reese.

* * *

Saturday morning dawned bright and frigid with the ploughs hitting the roads early to scrape off Friday night's snow. Sunlight steadily inched into her bedroom trying to prod her awake; but Joss steadfastly refused and snuggled into her comforter, yanking her pillow over her eyes. She had no desire to get up yet, and for the first time in a long while she had the option of sleeping late if she chose to. Her alarm had not gone off yet so there was still plenty of time to shower and get ready later.

She usually slept until the buzz of her clock radio went off, but this morning her internal clock had awakened her from a wonderful dream. Joss pulled her colorful crazy quilt tighter around her shoulders and nestled deeper into her mattress to try to fall back into that world.

They were dancing. Joss couldn't see her partner's face, but she knew he was tall, muscular, and she felt safe swaying in his arms to the faint background music. Every few steps he would nuzzle her ear and plant kisses along her cheek, moving ever so close to her lips. She was just about to lift her head from his shoulder and look into his eyes when her traitorous body woke up.

Joss gingerly turned herself onto her back to try to push herself into a dream state, but her brain wasn't cooperating. It wanted her to wake up and jerked her dreamboat right out from under her.

"_Ugh, fine!" _She might as well get up and see if her mom needed any help with last-minute packing. If it was early enough she would even cook breakfast for everyone before she started getting ready for her date.

Joss smiled around her yawn at the thought spending the day with Adam, and forced her heavy lids open…then bolted upright when she glanced at the blinking clock on her bedside table. 00:00 flashed back at her.

Unbelievable! The power must have flickered out again sometime during the night - a regular occurrence in her old apartment building, even during a light snowfall like they had yesterday. Which was why she always set the alarm on her cell as a back up, except last night….crap! She had been so distracted by the party and her mom's comments afterwards that she left it on the dresser by her jewelry and hair pins.

What time was it?

Joss scrambled out of bed, ignoring the chilly wooden planks under her feet as she raced to pick up her smart phone.

10:15?!

Adam was stopping by at 10:00 to pick her up!

Joss cautiously opened her bedroom door and stepped out a few feet into the hallway. No sounds were coming from the living room or her kitchen. That was good, right? Maybe Adam was running late as well - although would it have hurt him to call and let her know? She padded further out into the apartment to see if Taylor or her mom were awake and -

"Good morning Sleeping Beauty." The smooth rumble of his voice behind her nearly gave her a heart attack.

Adam looked decidedly unapologetic reclining against the sofa cushions they had occupied last night with her latest issue of _Cosmo_ open on his lap.

"Umm, good morning," she stammered with a hand to her hammering heart. The beat should settle back into a normal rhythm soon. "Where's Taylor and my mom?"

"Taylor is carrying your mom's luggage downstairs. I offered to help," Adam made the biceps in both arms jump to show how capable he was, "but they insisted I wait here for you."

Joss didn't say anything but stared at him, finding it hard to get the question rattling around in her brain to come out sounding halfway intelligent. Whether that was her alarm clock's fault or the man on her couch, she wasn't sure.

"My mom left already?" They had said goodbye last night, but Joss had planned to see her off this morning too.

"Yup, Rubie, Myrtle, and a few other ladies from her book club came by to pick her up on their way to the harbor." His charming smile was a little overwhelming to her sleep addled brain.

"They invited me to go." he added with a waggle of his brows.

Joss bit her lip to keep from laughing. Knowing her mom's blue hair crew, Adam was lucky he wasn't already tied up in the back of their van and on his way to the pier.

"Is there any woman in this city you can't charm?"

"My tenth grade algebra teacher, Mrs. Pickle - a woman as sour as her name suggests. But other than her, no." The man had no shame whatsoever.

"Well, I hope you weren't waiting long?" she asked, fighting a smile.

"No, not too long; but a few more minutes and I was going on a cruise."

Joss threw back her head and laughed outright - a rare feat considering she usually didn't even speak in the mornings until after her first cup of coffee.

"You laugh woman, but I was five minutes away from hopping in that van - Myrtle said she would wait for me."

With that devilish smile and deep dimples, who wouldn't wait for him?

"Interesting reading material," she commented dryly, nodding at the magazine on his lap.

"Yes well, I was getting a little worried that you had changed your mind so I decided to consult the experts." He tapped the article he was reading, wearing a precocious school boy expression she found endearing. "I was looking for advice on what a man is supposed to do when he's stood up by a woman who would rather sleep the day away than go out with him."

"And what did you find?" She was trying to keep her serious expression in place, but he was making that extremely difficult.

"There were some helpful tips on how I can add more volume and shine to my hair, and a very interesting blurb about the, um, position women prefer most. Other than that, nothing pertaining to my uh situation - which was why I was going to skim through this next."

Adam patted a thick volume on the cushion beside him. Joss recognized it as her copy of the New York State penal code she received at the academy and kept on the bookshelf beside the sofa. She raised her brows for him to continue, curious to see where he was going with this.

"Because there should be laws against that," he deadpanned in response to her unasked question.

Laughter overtook her at that point. Was this what a relationship with Adam would be like? He might be trying a little too hard this morning, but at least he was trying - and he got bonus points for creativity.

"I'm sorry to tell you this Mr. Orsini, but no such laws exist. It's a woman's right to change her mind."

"I can't tell you how disappointed I am to hear that Joss. I feel compelled to write my Congressman now or start a petition to correct this serious issue."

"You do that and I will be the first to sign it." He flashed his charming smile her way and put both books on the floor as he rose from the couch.

"By the way," she said to distract herself from her heated thoughts, "that trick for your hair? Doesn't work."

He frowned but continued to advance on her. "What about the other one?"

"That's really more third date material." Joss blushed all the way to her roots, amazed at how easy this was with Adam, but worried that she was moving too fast.

"One out of three isn't bad," he watched her with intense sea green eyes. "I take it you've changed your mind about our day together?"

"No, just wanted to see if you thought I would be worth waiting for." No need to tell him about the alarm fiasco.

"Oh you are Joss, most definitely, but if we're going to leave your apartment," Adam bent down to whisper in her ear, "you'll need to put on a few more layers."

It was only then that Joss realized she had traipsed out into her living room in nothing more than her pajamas - those damn princess pajamas nonetheless.

"Oh, I, that is my alarm, with the uh flickering, and," she crossed her arms over her bra-less chest and pushed a chunk of hair behind her ear. "I'll just umm..."

Adam broke into a hearty chuckle at her embarrassment and moved back to the sofa. "Go ahead _principessa_, we've got plenty of time."

"_Princess?" _Crud, he was never going to let her live this down.

He rested one foot across the opposite knee and re-opened his magazine. Joss couldn't move, baffled and intrigued with this man that she has known less than two weeks. On the flip side of that argument, she felt as though she had known him all her life. Adam must have sensed her attention, he looked up with an understanding smile.

"I'll be fine Joss. I've got some reading to catch up on." He winked at her then thrust his chin towards the bedroom. "Go."

Joss turned to do just that, but put on extra speed when she heard the front door open. She didn't want Taylor to catch her in her night-clothes talking to Adam. That would be a fine way to set a good example for him.

Forty-five minutes later Joss stepped back into her living room, showered, her hair in a high pony tail, and a touch of make up on. She wasn't sure what the day would hold so she dressed in a sunny yellow surplice sweater and a pair of dark jeans that showed off her backside tastefully.

"Good morning baby," she greeted Taylor as she grabbed a pair of sturdy yet fashionable black boots from the front closet.

"Morning mom. You look nice." He grinned widely around a spoonful of oatmeal.

"Thanks T." She wasn't even entertaining that smirk today. Joss pulled her dark wool coat and white scarf off their pegs. "Grandma left okay?"

"Yeah, she said she would call once they got underway."

"Okay. You're going to Mike's to work on your geometry homework?"

"After lunch. Then we're going to meet up with Ashley and her sister for a movie and dinner."

Joss merely raised her brows. She had yet to meet this Ashley whom Taylor mentioned at least twice a day. She had seen her once, briefly at a basketball game a few months ago, but that was across the court and John had practically dragged her out of the gym so she wouldn't embarrass her son with her nosiness.

"It's not a date mom," he whined. "I'm just hanging out with a group of friends - guys and girls."

"Okay, okay, it's not a date, but I would like to meet this girl…this friend of yours - unless," she paused for dramatic effect and drew back pretending to be hurt, "you're ashamed of me."

"Mom," he groaned while rolling his eyes.

"You always hear about this kind of thing happening to other mom's, but you never think it will happen to you," she told Adam as if they were the only two in the room.

He also stood and stretched causing her mind to short-circuit for a moment when his shirt stretched taut over his clearly defined abs.

"I thought I was the cool mom," she lamented, watching him make his way towards her.

"I think you're pretty hot actually."

She beamed under his praise, but her son almost choked on his scoff. She pegged Taylor with an affronted look, but he just shook his head.

"I promise you can met her soon mom, just not today."

"Fair enough," Joss conceded and leaned in for a quick peck. "You'll be home by curfew?"

"Yes ma'am, and what about you?"

"Just make sure _you_ are home by curfew T, or I'll send Aunt CeCe after you."

Taylor's eyes grew wide and he promised to wash her car, clean the entire apartment for a month, anything to keep that wild woman from showing up and embarrassing him in front of his friends. She wouldn't really do it, but it was fun to make Taylor squirm.

"Be sure and lock up after you leave," she reminded her son before he headed to his room to gather his school supplies.

"Ready?" Joss turned to Adam, suddenly nervous.

"Lead the way my lady. Oh and Joss?" he stopped her with his hand against the small of her back "Like I said, definitely worth the wait."

He flashed her a wolfish grin and prodded her out with his hand still on her back, even while she locked up. Joss couldn't keep her fingers from trembling and it took her two tries to get the key into the lock.

They stepped out of her building into the frigid morning and quick-stepped their way to his truck parked a few spaces down from her front door. Adam, ever the gentleman, assisted her into the cab and in minutes they were merging into traffic to head out to Coney Island.

* * *

**Finally posted another chapter! Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me so far, and read/reviewed this story. I appreciate all of the praise and encouragement you've given me :-), it truly keeps me going. Real life got me sidetracked for a little bit, but now that work has slowed down and the kids have started school (and are out of the house for a few hours everyday!) so I'll have extra time to write. This chapter is a little bit longer than most and it stopped at kind of an awkward place, but I believe you guys deserved the extra sections since I haven't updated in a few weeks. - so hopefully it's not over the top. Let me know what you think. ****I promise things are going to start to speed up from here on out, and some confrontations that need to happen will, and some secrets will start to come to light. I also have to apologize if I got the Italian phrases wrong, I used a couple of online translators to make sure it came out correctly, and hopefully it did! **

**I hope that everyone has a safe and relaxing Labor Day weekend! - Meli**


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